


Wonderful New Lies

by ShorknadoWIPs (Shorknado)



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Emotional Manipulation, Eye Trauma, Graphic Description, M/M, Murder, Roadtrip, Slow Burn, consensual this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:20:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28997382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shorknado/pseuds/ShorknadoWIPs
Summary: Frank needs to get away. From his blooming career and punk band, from his friends, from his problems. When a guy at a bar offers an escape, if only temporary, he takes it.No longer being worked on
Relationships: Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson | The Ghost Face/Frank Morrison
Comments: 23
Kudos: 100





	1. Michigan

Frank slams the door of the hotel room and marches down the hallway. He hears it open again as he presses the button on the elevator. 

"Frank you get your ass back here!" Julie yells down the hall. He glares at her as she approaches, only receiving an equally venomous look in return, "You are not going out there. I swear I will-" 

"What? Call my fucking parents? Oh wait, is Greg still up maybe you can call him and get him to bitch at me." He steps inside the elevator and slams the lobby button. It wouldn't close fast enough and Julie grabs the door to hold it open. 

"No, I'm not calling Greg. What I will do beat your ass if you go out there and do coke." 

The doors try to close again, but Julie's deft hand keeps them open. Frank wants to stab it with his pocket knife to get her to let go, but he likes her too much to hurt her on purpose. 

"Do you have a problem with me going out and having _fun?_ " 

An expression appears on her face that inspires deep guilt and anger in Frank. Two emotions he hated to feel for anyone. Under her makeup, he can still see the remains of her black eye. 

"You know what, Frank? I do. I fucking do." She hisses, letting go of the doors and letting them close, "I hope you get kidnapped out there, you cunt." 

Frank fakes a kiss as the doors close. Maintaining a smug expression until the doors close on Julie's rage-filled face. Then he sighs and leans back against the far wall of the elevator. He massages his temples and the headache that momentarily burst to life recedes again. As much as he wanted to go do coke, Julie was right. Not after last time. The elevator opens up on the ground floor and he makes his way out of the hotel and onto the streets of whatever city they're playing in. Doesn't matter to him anymore, they all looked the same after four. He asks a random can drive smoking outside his cab where the nearest eighteen and up night club is. The man offers to drive him, but Frank says he would rather walk. Mostly because he didn't want to pay for a cab or even be in one. 

The nightclub is still rocking despite the late hour. The door guard recognized him from the show and lets him inside in exchange for an autograph, but still puts an X on the back of his hand. Over the one, he already had for tonight's show. It pissed him off that while he's fully able to drink in Canada, one year means a whole fucking lot to these guys. He passes by the bathroom to try and wash off the ink but unfortunately, there's a long-ass line. Annoyed at this he leans at an empty table against one of the walls and watches the crowd dance. Just as he's considering asking some girl if she has hand sanitizer he could use some leans on the table next to him. 

"Hey, that's a cool tattoo!" The man yells over the music, smiling at him, "You have any more?" 

Frank almost tells the guy to fuck off. But he looks annoyingly sincere in the compliments and someone that could potentially buy him alcohol. So he smiles and leans in. 

"Oh, sure I do." He yells back, "I can always show you later." 

He swears he can see a flush on the man's face in the dim light when he winks after that shitty line. Too softly for him to hear but he sees his shoulder shake. The man smiles at him and asks the question Frank was waiting for. 

"Can I buy you a drink?" 

He carefully keeps his marked hand out of view and gives him what he hopes is a winning smile. 

"Sure. Rum and coke?" 

The man nods and slips off to the bar. Frank watches him as he moves in the dim light of the bar. He wasn't dressed like he fit in here, with a black t-shirt and dark jeans, but then again neither was Frank. He rests his head in his hand and looks around the room again. Restlessness was beating through him to the rhythm of the music. The man sets down a drink and Frank gratefully reaches for it, fingers brushing the glass when the man's hand encircles his wrist. 

"Wait-wait how old are you?" 

Frank looks at the big black X on his hand and curses. 

"I'm twenty." He admits, pulling his passport out of an inner pocket and showing it to the stranger, "And in my country, I'm allowed to drink. So uh, don't get your panties in a twist." 

"Oh okay! Sorry, I don't normally buy drinks for underage people anyway, but hey like you said you can drink in your country." The man smiles and sips his drink, by the looks of it also rum and coke. 

Frank takes a gulp of the mixed drink. Enjoying the dull taste of alcohol under the cola and relaxing. Thank god this guy wasn't a complete hard-ass.

"What's your name by the way?" 

"Frank.You?" 

"Donnie." 

He sips more from the drink and wonders if he can get Donnie to buy him shots. 

"So what brings you to America?" Donnie asks, "You on vacation?" 

Frank holds back a grin, "I'm on tour." He says, waiting for expected reaction of excitement he usually got from this line.

Donnie's eyes widen slightly and he leans in, "No shit?" 

He just smiles mysteriously and sips his drink, "What about you, big shot? Local?" 

"Oh, I'm a journalist. Freelance, so I travel a lot!" Donnie says, "I've been to pretty much every state, see a lot of sights. It's a pretty good gig." 

That was genuinely pretty cool.Touring around was fun, and he could imagine that driving the country with no set destination was it's own little joy

"Do you like it?" 

Donnie nods, a distant look in his eyes, "I love it. There's something incredible about being completely anonymous." 

Frank tilts his head curiously. That was an interesting thing to hear someone say. For most of his life he was anonymous. Skating through the foster care system as just another problem child. Just a drop in the bucket. Ormond was the first place he ever stood out, and he kept building that until now it felt hard, if not impossible, to be anonymous anymore. Or maybe fame was starting to get to his head and he was being an asshole. Hard to tell.

"Wait a second, does that mean you're just homeless?" 

"Well yes, I suppose so, when you put it like that." Donnie laughs and finishes off his drink, "I have a...storage unite. And a p.o box." 

"Oh living large, eh?" 

Donnie rolls his eyes and waves down a waitress, ordering another coke. Frank asks for a shot. 

"I live the way I want to so I can't complain." Donnie says, "Society isn't exactly for me." 

Frank takes the shot the instant it comes to the table. By now he's feeling a decent buzz since the drinks here are mixed strong. Because of this Donnie was becoming more and more intriguing to him. 

"I feel you there." He muses, "Everything is the all same in society, eh?" 

"I'd argue that there's some variety. But for the most part..." Donnie's eyes scan the room with an indistinguishable emotion, "All the same." 

It's probably the alcohol buzzing in his system, but Donnie was talking to his soul right now. 

"From what I've seen there ain't any variety to this lot. This club is no different than Toronto. Than uh...Fuck what's that state's name? Illinois? It's all the fucking same and...well shit I guess I'm sick of it, eh?" Frank rambles, unable to express what he was thinking as he stares at the bubbles fizzing in his rum and coke. 

He was bored with his life again. Briefly, there was excitement. Briefly, he felt alive on tour, after that night. But now? It was the same assholes trying to use him and Legion to get higher on the rat race that was life. Frank knew how to social climb. He knew how to be charismatic, how to get a yes, or maybe from those he needed to. But now he was tired of pretending to be human. He was sick of touring, of the stress that ate away at him in keeping up appearance, at the rage boiling under his skin. Another shot is set in front of him and he takes it without question. Donnie's fingers brush his chin and he looks up. 

"I can show you something new." The man offers, leaning so close he can feel warm breath brushing his ear that makes him shudder, "If you're up for it." 

The man's hand gently runs up his arm, making his intentions clear. Deciding not to be a pussy Frank down the rest of his drink and gives Donnie an award-winning smile that got him a record deal. 

"Do your worst big boy." 

Donnie takes his hand and leads him to the back of the nightclub. Frank is a little wobbly but manages to follow just fine as he pushes open a door and they spill out into an alleyway. The man grabs his shoulders and presses him up against the wall. Frank's heart races in excitement as the man's hands slowly trail down his chest, brushing over his nipples and making him shiver. He wraps his arms around the taller man's neck and pulls him down, smashing their lips together. The man moves quickly, tongue lapping over Frank's lips. He sucks on it before allowing the man to shove it in his mouth. Frank groans when Donnie presses his knee between his legs against the growing erection in his jeans. He shamelessly grinds against it. 

Hot wet kisses trail down his neck and the man sucks hard enough to bring a small cry of pain amidst the pleasure. Two cold hands slide under his shirt, making him gasp as Donnie bushes his shirt up and bares his chest. A cool breeze makes him shudders as Donnie starts to nip and suck at his chest, hand lowering your press against the bulge in his jeans. Frank moans and tilts his head back against the bricks of the alley as Donnie's tongue traces over his chest. A blow jobs in a back alley is exactly what he wants about now. 

"Frank?" 

Fuck. He grabs Donnie's shirt and pulls him up to smash their faces together. Entailing his hands in the man's hair and ignoring the footsteps coming down the alleyway. Donnie tries to pull away but he forcefully holds him in place. 

"Frank I know that's you!" Julie's voice is much closer now and he sighs, banging his head against the bricks in frustration. 

Donnie licks his lips, now shiny with saliva, and turns to look at Julie. 

"She your girlfriend?" He asks, voice a whisper. 

"Ex." Frank grumbles as Donnie pulls away from him, allowing the full force of Julie's glare to shine on him, "Hey Jules I'm kinda busy here can you fuck off, eh?" 

Her eyes slowly slide over to Donnie, looking the man up and down. He swears he can see recognition flash across her face before she rolls her eyes. 

"Hey watchthe attitude-" 

"Shut up. We're going back to the hotel." She cuts him off, "And we are going home tomorrow. And we are having a nice long fucking talk too." To emphasize this she grabs his arm tries to pull him away. 

Frank looks at Donnie, who shrugs helplessly, "Sorry buddy I uh, ain't getting into this one." 

Frank sighs in frustration but he can't blame the guy. Hell, guy was probably just as upset at missing out on a quick fuck as he was. 

"Thanks for the drinks, Donnie." He says in defeat.

Donnie leans in close suddenly, a soft husky voice sending shivers down his spine, "Feel free to call me if you need to get away, baby." 

The man waves at the two as he retreats down the alley. If those words didn't make him go weak at the knees he would have run after him. Instead, Julie starts dragging him out of the solace of the alley. 

"God can you back off for a second!" He whines, immediately annoyed at his own tone, "I can't fucking walk with a boner." 

"Tough." Julie shoves him into the back of a car and slams the door. Susie was sitting in the window seat in the back already and he's crammed in bitch. Joey looks back at them from the front with a concerned expression. Greg immediately starts bitching at him. 

Frank sinks in his seat and covers his ears. The buzz from the alcohol was starting to wear off due to the sobering reality of his never ending hell, his half hard cock hurt from how tight his jeans were, and Susie was bouncing her leg which wasn't the worst thing ever but it was annoying as fuck. All he wanted was a sloppy blow job in the alley and this is what he gets. Sitting in a shitty car with the last people he wanted to see or hear. When the car pulls into a parking lot he reaches over Susie and opens the door. Climbing over her and out of the car.

"Are you listening to me?" Greg asks as he starts towards the hotel. 

"Obviously fucking not!" Frank yells back as he stomps into the hotel and makes his way towards the elevator, slamming the call button. 

It opens instantly and he steps inside, as he hits the close door button Susie slips in as well. As annoyed as he is she's done the least wrong so he doesn't shove her out.

"How did you find me?" He spits when Susie presses the button for their floor. 

"Some guy recognized me and Julie and said you had gone into the club. Got our autographs." 

Figures. He ignores her until the elevator dings. Sgoulder checking Susie on his way out towards his room.. He was sharing with Joey which was a small blessing because Joey knew when to keep his fucking head down. He slamms the door shut on Susiebefore she can say anything.

Alone. 

A few deep breaths and he still feels like shit. What a twist.The clock on the bedside table flashed a horrible three in the morning. They had a flight put at noon today. One he was going to make a living hell. He yanks his shirt off and goes into the bathroom. Locking the door as he splashes water on his face in an attempt to calm down. Looking up into the mirror he sees multiple hickeys trailing down his neck and a black mark just below his nipples. Confused he steps back and stares at his chest in the reflection. 

A phone number, then 'call me' scrawled where he thought Donnie had been kissing. The fact that he had written it all backwards to be legible in the mirror makes him laugh despite the growing pit of rage in his stomach at the world he was currently stuck in. Maybe he will call the guy now.

Abandoning the idea of a shower he goes out into the main room, first locking the door so Joey can't get in before grabbing the phone and dialing the number on his chest. The line rings a few times and he idly traces the eyeball tattoo on his wrist. Donnie picks up on the third ring. 

"Hello?" 

"Hey, Donnie! It's uh, me Frank from the bar I uh, got your message." 

"I noticed!" The man's voice is chipper, "And oh it's Danny. I think you heard wrong in the club." 

Frank frowns, he could've sworn the man had yelled Donnie at him. But then again the names were pretty similar, as long as he wasn't pissed or anything. 

"Sorry about Julie, my friend. She's been a real bitch lately." He says then realizes just how juvenile he sounds, "Stress from touring and all I guess." 

"No, no you're fine I get it. You seem pretty stressed out as well. Sorry I couldn't relieve a little of that for you." Danny purrs, voice sending shivers down Frank's spine. 

Distantly he hears Joey try to open the door and curse. Frank ignores his pleas to be let in. 

"Say, are done with your tour?" 

"Yeah, tonight was our last show. Why?" 

Danny hums thoughtfully over the line, keeping him in suspense. 

"Well I mean if you're not like, busy anymore you can always...ride with me?" 

Frank blinks, briefly thinking that Danny was offering a ride on his cock before remembering his line of work. 

"Wait are you serious?" 

"Sure. I mean it's pretty lonely on the road sometimes, and you need some time away. I mean it's a no strings attached free road trip across the United States." Danny says in a tone that weasels into his mind and gnaws at his common sense. 

"That's nice and all Danny, but how do I know you're not some serial killer?" He shoots back, eyes drifting towards his pre-packed luggage. It would be so easy to grab it all and go.... 

"Frank, baby, if I was a serial killer _you'd already be dead._ " Danny's tone drops to a creepy whisper that would genuinely be menacing if he hadn't been sucking face with the guy earlier. 

"Wow, real convincing hotshot." Frank rolls his eyes, pulling the notepad on the nightstand towards him and writing out a message, "Do you know how to get to the Wyndham?" 

"On East street?" 

"Uh, yeah. Across from a uh, Taco Bell?" 

"Sure, I know it." 

"Be here in fifteen minutes and I'm yours." 

He hears a soft intake of breath on the other line, "I'll be there in five." 

Frank hangs up and quickly jumps to his feet. Pulling his shirt back on and his leather jacket. He loops his guitar case over his shoulder along with his cary-on and drags his suitcase to the door. He presses his ear against it and hears nothing so cautiously he opens the door. The coast is clear, and he manages to get down to the lobby without anyone stopping him. Once outside he realizes he forgot to ask Danny what car he drov and considers going back in to call when a car horn blares. Rolling down the window of a silver two-door was Danny. 

"Hey need a ride?" He calls teasingly as Frank jogs around the side and crams himself and luggage in the passenger seat. 

"Get me the fuck outta here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wally slush


	2. Indiana

Frank taps his foot along to the music playing from the headphones of his Walkman. While doing so he strums along to the tune of Enter Sandman. He had spent hours trying to get Greg to add a cover to their setlist, but the fucker said Frank's guitar work wasn't good enough to play it on stage. Which annoyed the fuck out of him because apparently everyone else's playing was good enough but he was a weak fucking link. In his defense, he was a very fucking talented guitarist and singer considering he had only been at it for about a year. As he's hitting a nice groove in strumming the car shudders from Danny hitting some sort of pothole and completely fucks up his rhythm. 

"Can you drive straight you damn fruit?" He complains, turning off his Walkman and setting the guitar aside. It was no use practicing in the back of this crammed car. Danny looks at him in the rearview mirror and shrugs. 

"Bad roads. Can't help it." 

Frank rolls his eyes, climbing over the middle console and dropping into the passenger seat. He kicks his feet up on the dash and reclines in the seat. 

"I was enjoying your playing, you didn't have to stop," Danny says, glancing over at him as he turns the radio on to fill the new silence. 

"Eh, I'll practice later when we pull over. If you keep hitting potholes I'll break my strings." 

Danny lets out a hum and falls silent as the beats of some blink-182 song fill the air. Frank gazes out the window at the swaying golden cornfields. The same scenery since he had woken up in this state. Danny called it Indiana and Frank was starting to think it was completely uninhabited. At least the sky was beautiful bright blue with fluffy clouds, which made him feel excited about the trip to come. 

"So what do you do in your band?" Danny asks, breaking the silence. 

"Bass guitar and vocals." 

"Oh that's cool, are you a good singer?" 

"I'd hope so." Frank laughs, "You ever heard of Legion?" 

Danny hums in thought, "I believe I was at your concert yesterday. Not for you, but for the main act. I was writing a report." 

"Is that why you came up to me last night?" 

"Oh no! I mean you looked kinda familiar, but in a blond twink way." 

Frank flips Danny off, who laughs in response. 

"I came up to you because you looked cute. But thinking back I did enjoy your performance. Bands that showcase the drummer always pique my interest." Danny muses. 

Frank tries not to let the disappointment show on his face. He had almost hoped that maybe Danny saw him in concert and was madly in love with him so he could spend days crushing his hopes under his beat-up converse. 

"Of course you have a very different stage presence. You seem to be more... angry up there. Like you're about to snap at any moment. There's a passion to your singing that's quite captivating, and names up for the lack of training." 

"Oh uh...thanks." He clears his throat and looks at his sneakers. The sincerity in Danny's voice threw him for a loop. Usually, the reviews for his music were a simple 'fucking awesome' and not a thoughtful observation. 

"No offense but I get the sense that you aren't as good with your instrument as the others. How long have you been playing?" 

"About a year." 

Danny lets out an impressed whistle, "That's incredible! You have an amazing career ahead of you!" 

Frank feels a flush on his face waves his hand as if the compliments didn't fill him with pride, "Thanks I guess." 

He reaches down to grab his backpack and digs through it for a moment before producing a CD of their recent album. Julie had given it to him when they got the prints and he forgot it was in his bag until now. 

"Here, when we get famous you can sell it." 

Danny takes the CD and looks at it with a bright smile, "Oh are you sure?" 

"I'm not gonna listen to it. Oh, wait you want me to sign it?" 

"Please!" Danny passes the CD back and Frank takes a sharpie from his bag. 

He stares at the front of the case before signing his name and doodling a little smiley face. Danny looks over at it and laughs. 

"Seriously thank you. This is nice." Danny looks at the cover before gently placing the CD in the glove box where a cassette tape was sitting. 

"Least I can do since you are now stuck with me for the time being." 

"I'm happy you came with me too. I know it's super weird to ask that out of the blue but you looked like you needed some time away!" 

Frank nods, "What can I say I love the thrill. As long as you're not a serial killer." 

Danny laughs, quiet and low, "You keep bringing that up. Are you scared of me?" 

Frank looks over at Danny. Eyes trailing over his body openly. Yes, he had a few inches on him, and his shirt clings to his biceps and chest betraying his build, but Frank had a feeling he could place a few choices stabs into him before anything bad happened. Hell, Danny was a little too trusting to invite someone like him along. 

"You're the least scary person on this car." 

A grin spreads onto Danny's face and he turns to look at Frank. Mirrored aviator sunglasses reflecting his smug expression at him. 

"Good to know." 

Frank raises his eyebrows at Danny, "What do you mean 'good to know'?" 

"Oh well, it's good to know you think you're the scariest person in the car." Danny pauses, fingers tapping the steering wheel playfully, "Guess it means you haven't seen the guy in the trunk."

It's hard not to laugh at that mediocre punchline, "Oh shut up you dork. We put my suitcase in there at that 7-11 your trunk is full bags and laundry detergent ain't no body back there." 

"Big words for a guy who didn't look in my bags and find the body." 

"Dude swear if you pull over and I unzip one of those bags and find a body?" Frank laughs at the ridiculousness of this statement, "Okay wait, fuck it this joke isn't funny. There's no body and you are still a big dork." 

"I'd expect you to have better insults. Dork? C'mon buddy you can do better than that." 

Frank waves a hand dismissively at Danny, "You don't deserve a better insult." 

"Ouch. My bleeding heart." 

Silence falls again and Frank stares at the corn. There was something in this fresh air that was making him feel particularly good now. He considers grabbing his Walkman and jamming out to his own tunes for a bit. Though they had been on the road for a while now and he was wondering Danny should be driving. Guy hasn't pulled over to take a power nap since picking him up and it was well past noon. 

"Where are we headed anyway?" He asks something he definitely should have mentioned sooner. 

"Kentucky." 

There's a pause where he stares at the man in annoyed non-American before Danny speaks again. 

"State just below this one. I'm interviewing with his guy." 

"Cool." Frank says with a yawn, "And after that?" 

"Who knows." Danny says mysteriously, "More importantly, where do you wanna eat?" 

Frank shrugs, "Dunno. McDonald's?" 

"Classy." 

"I know I have expensive tastes." Frank shrugs, "You can take me anywhere. Not like I know where to eat around here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The band stuff is really just a means to a start with this fic so if it bugs you I won't be mentioning it a lot


	3. Kentucky

Frank groans and stretches, hands bumping against the door as his bones crack painfully. He had opted to curl up in the back seat for tonight, a tight fit where he had to prop his legs up sideways on the front seat to fully stretch out but in all honestly, he had slept in much worse conditions. He opens his eyes to the gentle light streaming in through the open windows. Birds chirp and when he looks towards the front seats he meets Danny's brown impassive eyes staring down at him. It startles him so much he gasps softly and sits up, pushing off the light blanket Danny had loaned him. 

"What the fuck are you doing?" He snaps, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. 

"Hmm?" 

"Were you watching me sleep?" 

Danny shakes his head, a look of surprise flashing across his face as he holds his hands out, "What oh God no I'm sorry! You were talking in your sleep and I was wondering if I should wake you up since you looked like you were having a bad dream." 

He looks suspiciously at the man as he climbs into the front seat and out of the car. He stretches and breaths in the cool fresh air. They were at a rest stop. All the semi-trucks from last night had long gone just a few campers and Danny's car. 

"I'm going to take a piss." 

"Sure thing. I got poptarts and cosmic brownies for breakfast." Danny calls as he walks towards the building. 

Frank waves dismissively and yawns again. No one else was in the building so he's able to piss in peace. Scrubbing lukewarm water on his face after washing his face before looking in the mirror. Dark circles were under his eyes, but he looked less like shit than usual. The fuzzy remnants of his dream float into his mind. Snow, screams, and death. Was he really talking about it in his sleep? Surely if he was only vague snippets Danny wouldn't understand, right? Turning off the faucet he returns to the car. Feeling more awake and slightly better. Danny was sitting on the hood of the car munching on a poptart staring into the woods nearby. Frank eyes him suspiciously as he grabs one of the wrappers and opens it up. 

"What was I saying?" 

"Huh?" 

"In my sleep. What was I saying?" 

Danny raises his eyebrows, a small smile on his face as if he thought Frank asking was endearing. 

"Oh, just random stuff." 

He tilts his head, "Anything specific?" 

"What, afraid you revealed some deep dark secret?" Danny teases finishing off his poptart, "You mumbled something about a ski lodge." 

Fuck he was talking about that night. Why else would he mention the ski lodge? He tosses the wrapper on the ground and sullenly eats his poptart. Danny grabs a small drawstring bag and starts towards the building, calling he would be back in five minutes. Frank waves a hand and sighs, laying back on the hood of the car and staring at the fluffy white clouds. The floodgates of his memories now re-opened.

The day after they killed the janitor was sunny. That bothered him more than actually killing the guy at the time. How dare the sun rise at all after the bad that had happened in the night. But that's how it is, isn't it? The sun goes up. The day after murder just happens to be the prettiest winter day all year. They get away with it. It's just that easy. Frank sighs and rubs his face again. Why was he thinking about this shit again? It had been almost two years since that night, sure they didn't even deal with any fallout but why the fuck was he thinking about it now? 

A shadow falls over him and he sits up, revealing on his elbows to see Danny standing over him. Frank can't help but put on his best flirty smile and open his legs ever so slightly. The man takes the invitation and leans down, hands resting on the hood on either side of him. Frank leans in closer, noticing that Danny had shaved and smelled faintly of cologne. He watches the man's dark eyes openly trail over his body, shivering despite the warmth under the intense gaze. Finally, Danny meets his eyes and he blanks on the snarky comment that had been waiting on his tongue. There was an intense hunger in his eyes now. Like he was looking at a piece of meat instead of a human. 

"You look good on my car," Danny whispers, voice low and so close his minty breath washes over Frank's lips. 

"It's easy to look good on a piece of junk." Frank manages to reply. Danny rolls his eyes, drumming his fingers on the shiny red hood. 

"Are you just saying that to be mean, or do you not know anything about cars?" 

"Both." He admits with a shrug, "But you gotta admit your car is ancient." 

Danny moves away from Frank, obviously annoyed at the continued insults to his car. It a shame since that was the first time Danny hit on him two nights ago at the bar. He slides off the hood of the car and goes around to the passenger side and sits down. The map in the building said they were somewhere in the middle of Kentucky, whatever that means. The heat was more noticeable now, and he dreaded going lower in the states due to it. He starts scrolling through the dial on the radio, going past various country and local news stations in search of something halfway decent. 

"The town we're heading to has a drive-in movie theater." 

"Cool." Frank grunts, not particularly interested. 

"We can go to it. I think they're gonna play Eyes Wide Shut." 

"What's that?" 

"Movie based on a book. Kubrick made it." 

"He made uh, Space Odyssey right?" Frank settles on a radio station playing summer hits. 

Danny glances at him with an impressed look on his face that annoys him, "Didn't think you'd be into that kinda stuff." 

"What? Fucking movies? Everyone sees movies you dipshit." Frank snaps, annoyed at the weird condescending look on his face. Despite his looks, he wasn't fucking stupid. 

"It's a bit of an older movie, though. Figured you'd be more of an uh, scary movie fan. Gore blood, that sorta thing" 

"Well, I'm not into that shit." He settles back and looks out the window at the passing fields of green, "Don't make assumptions." 

He hears a soft laugh from Danny but refuses to look over and give him satisfaction. 

"You never cease to surprise me." The man murmurs, so low Frank isn't sure he was supposed to hear it. 

Six hours later he's sitting on the hood of Danny's car again completely bored. The movie was playing and he couldn't bear to look at what, I'm his opinion, was some nasty porn pretending you be a movie. The only upside to this was the coke and popcorn Danny had gotten him. He drains the last of the drink and sets it on the roof of the car behind him. 

"Didn't you have a meeting with some guy?" He asks through a mouthful of popcorn. 

"Watch the movie," Danny replies, eyes glued to the screen as he had been since the title card. 

"Stop calling it a movie when it's porn." 

"Shut the fuck up." 

Danny's voice was completely flat, devoid of emotion despite the obvious annoyance in his face. It's incredibly unnerving but Frank decides to push his luck anyway. 

"Don't tell me you're enjoying this movie?" 

A deep sigh sounds from Danny and he slowly turns his head to look at Frank. His face was blank now, eyes black in the darkness of night. Light flickers on his face from the large projection screen, casting odd shadows onto a complete stranger's face. Fear spikes through him briefly and he remembers the stories Julie told him of the CoEd killer in the states who would murder hitchhikers he picked up. 

"Remove your clothes, or would you like us to remove them for you?" 

Danny stares at him as the movie's piano plays after that line. Then he slowly turns back to the screen. Frank feels as if his heart was going to beat out of his chest and he turns to the screen as well. A naked women's tits on the full screen don't make him feel better. He's so shaken by this he feels physically numb. Slowly he slides off the hood of the car and enters the cabin, he sits on the passenger seat and stares at Danny's back. 

The man is so still Frank can't tell if he's breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't realize eyes wide shut has a bunch of nudity and would probably not be played as a drive in but hey fuck it


	4. Alabama

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweet home Alabama. Where the days are so blue!

A door slams and frank jerks up in his seat with a gasp. He looks over at Danny starting the car and quickly pulling out of the brightly lit gas station onto the considerably darker highway. Danny was wearing a black pair of gloves that were shiny with some sort of thick liquid. He blinks, rubbing his eyes and stretching out from the uncomfortable position he had fallen asleep in. Dawn had broken over the sky, orange and pink blending into purple and black. 

"You okay?" Frank asks, squinting at Danny. The man was breathing heavily and a thin sheen of sweat was noticeable on his brows.  
"Hmm? Yeah of course I feel fine! Great even. Sorry did you want some snacks? We can stop at another gas station." 

"...Sure." He replies, eyeing Danny for a few more seconds before shrugging the behavior off as sleepless jitters. 

Half an hour passes in silence as the sun washes light over them. To stave off boredom he pulls a worn notebook and pencil from his bag. He flips to a blank page and scrawls 'song idea #4' on the top of the page. Usually, they all worked together on the songwriting portion, Joey being the driving lyricists while Susie does the rhythm work. Over the year though he had gotten pretty okay and writing songs, even if it was just basic ideas that were to be spruced up later. Staring at the blank page he wonders if they would be okay with him writing about the night. It hadn't come up when working on their first tracks, but it lingered in the back of their minds when lyrics got a little dark. He writes vaguely of blood and moonlight and glass that looks like snow. It's looks and sounds so fucking bad and he groans. 

"Trouble writing?" Danny asks, peeling his gloves off and stuffing them in a bag in the back. 

"Yeah." He grumbles, doodling in the corner out of frustration. 

"I get you. Sometimes I spend way too long on articles that don't even matter that much. Can't imagine writing a song." 

Frank nods, flipping to a fresh page and staring at the blank lines, "Got any writing advice?" 

Danny taps the steering wheel humming softly for a few moments, "I like to work on two articles at a time. So if I get stuck on one I can work on the other a bit. Might not work for songs though." 

Frank writes 'We stabbed a man to death and got away with it' on the top of the page. The confession brings a false sense of security and he writes it again and again. 

"I'll give it a shot." He says distantly, adding half-hearted song lyrics. 

After a while he gives up and turns on the radio, sorting through stations for something to inspire him. He didn't know what the fuck was going on with him now. It's like being near Danny was making his brain work at a different frequency than he's used to. Or maybe it's finally being apart of the Legion. A chance to not put up his little cool confident act and stop pushing the shit to the side until he's so wigged out on cocaine he goes ballistic. 

"-The man was found just an hour ago at the Sheetz gas station and is currently in critical condition." 

He stops on the station, local news he guesses, intrigued by the fresh story. 

"The man was found in the men's bathroom brutally beaten with a brick. The culprit has not been identified by the cashier, and no witnesses were at the scene at the time. More information as this develops." The radio host says, then s country song fades in. 

"Think that was from the station we were at?" Frank asks, looking over at Danny's impassive face. 

"No, there wasn't a bathroom at it." 

He stares at Danny curiously, "Why were we stopped then?" 

"Gas." 

He looks at the sleeves of the man's shirt. It was black, athletic fabric that could maybe be wet. Then he looks back into the seat at the gloves sitting on the duffle bag. There was no way Danny did that, right? Though the more he thought about it Danny was pretty weird at times. The way he found staring at him when getting gas or watching that movie last night was creepy. He watches the pale fingers tap against the wheel to no real rhythm. Wondering if those hands could beat a man half to death with a brick. 

When he looks down at his hands he wonders if any would suspect he stabbed a man to death with them. He had gotten a tattoo on the backs of them to cover some scars. A tombstone that had his name on it for the right, and a death's head moth on the left. He wondered how they'd look covered in blood. 

"Do people ever tell you that," Frank pauses, trying to find the right words, "You.. affect them?" 

Danny is silent for a while. Long enough for Frank to regret speaking entirely. 

"No, can't say anyone has." The man's reply is slow and thoughtful, "Though I don't rub elbows with others for too long. So maybe most don't notice if I do." 

Frank makes an awkward grunt of agreement. Looking up from his hands and at passing fields of cows. Danny seemed to bring out strange thoughts from him. Why or how he wasn't sure. Maybe it was the air of mystery he had about him slowly fading as Frank spent more and more time in his company. Though it's not like he knew him any better than when they said hello. Fuck he didn't even know the guy's just name or the state on his plate. Yet he wasn't scared of this revelation, not like last night where terror had briefly seized him. Danny was simply a man that was completely different from most people he was interested in. Aloof, unbothered, anonymous. Almost like himself, but not bogged down with ego. 

"You know Frank." Danny interrupts his thoughts, "You have an effect on me." 

He tilts his head curiously, "Really?" 

Danny nods, glancing at him briefly before speaking. 

"There's a presence about yourself. Like undertow hiding below calm waves, that's just waiting to drag someone under." 

Frank stares at the long stretch of highway ahead. He wonders if that's exactly how the others saw him now that they did what they did. At one point he saw them as his little ducklings following him around, but now they were more like planets trapped in his orbit. Too afraid to leave for fear of what would happen. Or maybe he was underestimating the depths of the friendship. It was hard to tell sometimes. 

"Is that a good thing?" He finally responds. 

"To me it is." 

Frank laughs and leans back in his seat, kicking his feet up on the dash, "You are such a geek." 

"Oh stop you started it!" Danny rolls his eyes and takes an exit, "You wanna drive for a bit?" 

He perks up at that, "No shit?" 

"Sure. I have articles to write anyway. Just don't get pulled over." Danny pulls into the parking lot of a gas station, "Also it's brunch time." 

Frank follows him in the station and browses the assortment of drinks. Settling on a coke and snowball for breakfast, Danny grabs a much healthier banana and sobe. 

"You two hear about the guy that got jumped?" The cashier says conversationally. 

"Yeah I heard, scary out here isn't it?" Danny says, passing over a bill as the lady counts out change. 

"People are saying the Ghostface might have come to this town." The woman shudders and passes Danny the change, "Things like that just don't happen here, y'know." 

Danny smiles politely and nods, "No, they really don't. Stay safe ma'am." 

"You too." 

Once they leave the building Frank tosses the wrapper aside and quickly devours the snowball, "Fuck was that about?" He asks through a mouthful. 

"Hmm? The lady?" Danny asks, getting into the passenger seat. Frank sits on the driver's side and starts the car. 

"Yeah, why did she bring up the bathroom guy like we give a fuck." 

"She's probably just scared. I mean, stuff like that doesn't happen in rural Alabama, y'know?" 

"Oh come off it. Evil shit happens everywhere." Frank pulls out of the gas station and back onto the highway. Heeding Danny's warning and only going a few miles over the limit, "These guys just say that to hide the fact that half the assholes here probably beat their wife and kids. Pretending that bad people are just scary myths from big cities." 

Frank grips the wheel in anger. Ormond was a tiny town, and some would argue that he was the big bad tornado that brought evil in. Things like that don't happen here they all preached. Cops don't beat the Natives that pass through, foster parents don't buy booze over food, and sometimes janitors leave town for no reason never to be seen again. 

"I think people in big cities are better than these hicks because at least they admit that bad shit happens." He spits out, filling the silence with dull rage. 

"Evil is blood and it runs through everyone, everywhere." Danny murmurs, pencil scratching on the paper as he writes, "You're right about that." 

Frank doesn't reply. Focusing on the highway stretching out ahead of him. He wonders if they'll ever find the body. If anyone in that hell hole even cared to look. People don't deserve to die and go unfound. Uncared for. Unmourned. Even if he didn't feel guilty for his crimes he felt justified in how disgusting it was that no one seemed to care. That he could kill a person and everyone just shrugged and said "he probably skipped town." It reminded him of how the principal always called him a bad egg and claimed he was ruining the minds of the good students at Ormond. Never mind Susie and Joey had slurs carved into their locker by the good eggs. 

It reminds him of the fantasy he had during long cold nights in his room. His Walkman playing Dead Brain Cells as he stared at the rook. He would imagine Ormond getting destroyed. Imagine the four of them on the top of the mountain, smattering down at the tiny, evil town as it was swallowed whole by the earth. As the janitor exacted his revenge, not on the ones who killed him but on the motherfuckers who didn't even care. He imagined all kinds of fire, flood, snow, and death destroying the town. Sometimes he imagined himself going down with it. 

He opens his bag and pulls out his Rob Zombie cassette tape. Ejecting the one Danny had in and inserting his, tossing whatever new wave garbage Danny liked onto the dashboard. The familiar opening track relaxes him. Stopping the swirling thoughts in his mind and focusing on his attention. 

_"Away ran the children to hide in their beds  
For fear that the devil would chop off their heads." _

Superbeast starts playing. He turns up the volume and can't help but start singing along to the lyrics. His voice was a bit rusty from the few days without practice and coming off with the tour. At least he had an excuse if Danny complained about his singing at all. Once Dragula comes on his sour mood is completely forgotten. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Danny moving around and looks over to see him with a digital camera. 

"What are you doin?" 

"Hmm? I'm enjoying the free show. Thought I'd take a photo to remember this moment." Danny turns the camera towards him and the digital display shows a surprisingly decent image of him moments ago. 

It makes him smile, not a lot of pictures existed of him. Getting bounced house to house with no one who gave a guck about him. The Polaroids he had with Legion were some of his prized possessions. 

"If you get those developed you should send me them." 

He glances over to see a big smile on Danny's face as he flips through the photos on the camera, "Oh of course. As long as you don't mind me taking them." 

"Take as many as you want. I mean they'll last longer, eh?" 

"Oh, I promise you I cherish them all. Oh, take the next exit towards south I-42." 

Frank does as told, unhappy to be going further south due to the heat but he while make do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter. The next one will be longer!


	5. Florida

"Thought you only had a storage unite and P.O box?" Frank asks, looking around the small house. To be fair it really looked like no one had lived here in months. 

"Okay so I embellished a little bit on that story," Danny admits without a trace of guilt as he drops three separate duffle bags onto the island in the tiny kitchen, "I like to be mysterious. Plus I like barely live here." 

"I can tell." Frank doesn't ask for permission as he opens a window in the living room to let fresh air in. The heat was stifling, even worse in the house, "You got A.C or am I going to fucking die in here?" 

"Hmm? I'll go turn it on." Danny wonders off down a hall. 

The place is barren of any decorations, nothing on the walls. Hes not suprised to see that Danny has no couch. Only an armchair facing a small TV on two milk crates. Though there was a large bookshelf crammed with books. The kitchen was equally as empty. Every single electronic was unplugged. Sitting on the island was a mini fridge, which he guessed was for when Danny was around so he didn't have to boot up the big fridge. From somewhere in the house the air conditioning rumbles to life. He looks down the dark hallway. It was late, the sun had long since leaving him standing in the only pool of light. He's apprehensive to go into the darkness of the house in search of Danny, instead deciding to wait for him to come back. Unfortunately searching the kitchen turns up no food. Hell the only eating utensils are two sets of bowls, plates, cups and flatware. It's incredibly fucking creepy. 

"Danny? You get lost?" He yells into the shadows. 

'Hmm? No sorry!" His voice calls back. Suddenly the hallway lights up and Frank jumps. At the end of the small hall stands Danny. 

"Lightswitch is over here. Shitty design." Danny shrugs and walks back down the hall, "You wanna order pizza?" 

"Uh, sure." 

Danny wonders over to the phone on the wall and dials a number, "Whatcha want." 

"Mushrooms, black olives, back bacon, green peppers, onions, and banna pepper. Extra cheese as well." 

"What the fuck." Danny murmers as he stares at Frank, "You're getting a personal pizza you little monster." 

"Its good. Can you get me a coke too?" 

Danny waves his hand, greeting then pizza man and repeating his order to the guy on the phone. Thankfully he gets it all correct so Frank can start ignoring him. One of his duffle bags was unzipped, and curiously he moves the flaps to peek inside. Inside was a mess of black and grey fabric and a bright white piece of plastic. Hes about to reach for it when the phone clicks on the receiver. 

"Should be here in fifteen minutes." 

"Nice." Frank looks around the room again, "So why do the fuck do you live like this?" 

'Hmm?" Danny looks around the room, "Like what?" 

"Dude, there's like nothing here? Wait- wait please tell me this is your house abd we're not breaking into some old ladies home." 

"So rude. It is my house, I inherited it when my dad passed away. I send my checks here, and work stuff to a p.o box." 

"What so did he not decorate?" Frank asks, sad that Danny's dad had apparently died to early. 

"Oh well he did but I uh, sold most of the stuff. I was planning on selling the house but it didn't work out." Danny shrugs and points down the hall, "Oh yeah the bathroom is the first door on the right, next to it is a my dads old room. There's a bed in there so you can sleep." 

"We ain't sharing?" Frank asks, eyes flicking over Danny's body openly. 

"Oh uh, I have a twin mattress in my room." Danny admits, at least having the decency to sound embarrassed. Frank's excuse for his twin size mattress was a inattentive foster parents. 

Danny pulls out a twenty from his wallet and passes it to Frank, "I'm gonna turn on the water heater. If the pizza guy comes give him this, it'll cover the tip." 

Frank stuffs it in his pocket as Danny grabs his two duffle bags and walks down the small hallway to the closet at the end. Opening the door to reveal it to be a utility room. With a sigh he shuffles over to investigate the TV. Danny at least had a cable box and VCR. No DVD but hell he didn't gave one either. That sucks, but he's not suprised. Finally he goes to the only thing in the room that he hasn't looked at closely. The bookshelf is almost floor to ceiling and as wide as it is tall. Scanning over the titles he recognizes a few that share the same name as movies he's watched before. Notably It, Greys Anatomy, Clock Work Orange and Silence of The Lambs. There's plenty of others he doesn't recognize but sound creepy. Guess it made sense that he read a lot since he wrote for a living. 

A knock at the door pulls him away from the bookshelf and towards the door. He could feel his stomach growl at the thought a meal that wasn't eaten in a car or McDonald's. Excitedly he opens the door to see the meek looking delivery driver. He tilts his head, frowning slightly at him over his glasses. 

"Oh uh, is Danny here?" The man asks, handing the box and bag of drinks over as Frank passes him the twenty. 

"He's doing something, do you need him?" Frank replies suspiciously. 

"Oh no! I just wanted to say hi but its okay! You two have a nice day!" The man offers a shy smile and waves. Frank would kick his ass if given the chance. 

"You too." He says, closing the door and setting the pizza in the island. Thank god Danny had two sets of plates "Foods here!" 

"No need to shout." Danny's voice creeps up behind him and he whirls around to see him only inches away, "Were you nice to the delivery boy?" 

Frank rolls his eyes, peeking into the boxes to find his pizza, stealing a slice from Danny's while he's at it. 

"I gave him the money. He asked for you." 

"Oh good! I used to work there when I was younger." 

Frank glances at the man curiously, "You delivered pizza?" 

"Hmm? No I made pizza. The owner loves be though so I get discounts." 

It was weird to hear about Danny's past, even if it was just bits and pieces of it. Due to the lack of chairs he jumps up on the counter, pouring himself a cup of coke ashe starts to devoure his pizza. Danny leans against the island, staring out the window with a thoughtful look in his eyes. 

"So how did your dad die?" Frank asks through a mouthful of pizza. Danny chews on a bit of crust, vacant eyes trailing over to him. He doesn't look particularly upset to be asked that at least. 

"He was murdered in his sleep." Danny says with a shrug. 

Frank stares at him, trying to see him crack and laugh at the awful joke. Unfortunately Danny just takes a sip from his cup and shrugs. 

"I was out of town on a college thing and some robbers ransacked the place and shot him in that arm chair." He adds, nodding over to the chair infront of the TV. 

He could practically see an older man that looked like Danny reclined in the chair. It made him shudder to think about getting killed in your own home. Its where you should be safe. They finish eating in silence and Danny sighs contentedly. 

"Gonna be here for a few days, I'll take you to the city with me while I do office junk. There's some things in the punk scene that you might like." 

He likes the sound of the, setting the plate aside and jumping off the counter, "Sounds cool, I'll tag along." 

"Great! Get some sleep We can head out around noon." 

Frank takes his bag to the bathroom. At first only planning on taking a piss but upon seeing himself in the mirror decides to take a shower while he can. It feels nice to was all the sweat and grime from a few days off his skin, even if he had to put on his old clothes. He'd left his suitcase in the car. Freshly cleaned he goes into Danny's later dads room and flicks on the light. For some reason he half expected to room to be untouched. Like Ed Geins moms room. Instead it was just as barren as the other rooms. The king size bed was nice, and it even had a bed frame. He drops his bag and shoes by the door and checks the closet. Empty of course. Then he peeks under the bed to find it free of monsters. Hard to snoop when there's nothing left to dig through. Sighing he goes to turn off the light when something odd catches his eyes. 

A sliding deadbolt was affixed to the door. He frowns at it, and slides it into place. When he tries to open the door it holds steady. 

Why the fuck did Danny's dad have a deadbolt installed in his door? 

Was...it to keep someone out? Or to make sure he stays in? Guy was probably just a sleep walker or something. 

Still his hand hesitates on the bolt. Maybe...he should keep the door locked. Just in case. 

From across the hall he can hear soft music if he listens hard enough. Under the door was a faint pink light. Curious he undoes the lock and opens the door. The hallway was pitch black now and under Danny's door was strong red light. It draws him like a moth and he crosses the hall, resting a hand on the doorknob. It turns under his hand and opens a crack, washing a soft red light into the hall. 

Danny is a black silhouette peeking out from the crack. Blocking the rest of the room from view. Frank finds himself at a loss for words staring at the black pit shaped like a human. Though he was super digging the vibes going on in that room and absolutely wanted in on them. 

"Can I uh, come in?" 

"No." 

The answer is quick and cold. Frank stares at the man and wonders what brought on the change in attitude. He tries another angle, leaning in close and giving his best flirty look. 

"Oh come on Danny. We got the house too ourselves and you were just gonna let me go to sleep?" He reaches out and gently runs his fingers up Danny's chest. 

"...I figured you'd be happy to be in a bed." Danny replies, voice softening to his normal tenure. 

"Sure, happy to be in yours." Frank winks at him and draws a laugh. 

"I don't like having people in my room." Danny replies, voice cold again as he pushes Frank's hand away, "No offense." 

He can't help but scowl slightly at his advances being rebuffed so quickly. The black shadow tilts his head, and in doing so he catches a small glimpse of the room behind. It looked like a strange peeling wallpaper and a few clothes pins on wires. It only made him more curious. 

"Whats with the light?" 

"I used to develop photos in here. Changed the bulb to keep the images from over developing." 

Damn, that was really cool. It was annoying how interesting this freak was and how suddenly he wasn't keen on fucking him now. He was smart enough to know that he had gone as far as he could go with this conversation. So he puts on a nonchalant face steps back. 

"See you in the morning then." 

"Sleep tight." Danny starts to step back when Frank suddenly remembers something. 

"Hey why does your dad have a deadbolt on his door?" 

Its a shame he can't read Danny expression in the darkness. It would probably be much more telling than anything else. 

"He was a bit quirky." 

Danny closes the door, dousing Frank in shadows. When he closes the door to the dead mans room he slides the deadbolt into place. 

\- x - 

Frank wakes up to the sound of the door knob jiggling. Groggy as hell he gets up and stumbles to the door, rubbing his eyes as he unlocks the bolt and opens the door. 

"Hey buddy. I made breakfast." Danny says. Smiling brightly and holding a knife, "I made omelets!" 

"What?" 

"I. Made. Breakfast." Danny says slower, "Omelets. Eat up so we can head out!" 

Right, food. Exciting. He nods and shuffles past Danny towards the bathroom to splash water on his face. God sleeping in a real bed was so damn nice. It had been a while since he slept so soundly. The smell of eggs draws him towards the kitchen afterwards where a steaming omelets rested on a plate. He starts eating it eagarly. 

"How'd you sleep?" Danny asks. 

"Good. Comfy bed." Frank replies through a mouthful of eggs. 

"I grabbed your suitcase from the car, figured since we're here I could do some laundry save a few quarters. Its in the utility closet." Danny rambles, "Get changed we have a big day." 

Frank is tempted to ask Danny if he can stay here and sleep longer. Then again how many times would he get the chance to explore the city? He finishes off his omelets and goes to his suitcase sitting by the door. With a yawn he pops it open in changes into his Joy Division shirt and ripped blue jeans. He hears the front door close and looks out the open door to Danny's room. Curiosity overwhelms him and he quickly goes to the door, grabbing the knob and twisting. For some reason he almost doesn't expect the knob to turn but it does. Eagarly he opens the door and flips the light on. 

What he had mistaken for wallpaper last night was actually newspaper. The entire wall and ceiling were completely covered in newspaper clippings. The red light made it hard to read any of the headlines from so far away. Danny wasn't lying about the twin size mattress, it sat under a window down that was covered with blackout curtains and there's a pair of handcuffs clipped to the headboard. There was a dresser with a small TV on top of it and a cassette player on top of that. Against a wall was a writing desk filled with papers and a record player. The oddest piece of furniture is a fold out table with a bunch of trays, a CD player, and photos clipped to wires above the tray. It was difficult to make out details of the photos clipped to the wires around the room but they looked vaugly like landscapes or people. It was weird, but he was a big fan of the aesthetics. He's about to step into the room to get a better look at the photos when the front door knob jiggles. 

He slams the door and backs away into the guest room. Waiting until he hears the front door close before stepping out like nothing happened. Danny had the jug of laundry detergent in hand, eyes flicking over Frank openly as he walks past. 

"Nice shirt." 

"Thanks." Frank replies, grabbing an armful of his clothes from his suitcase and following Danny to toss it in the washer. 

"I'll be in the car, make sure you have everything you need." Danny says, setting the jug on the washer. 

He nods, dropping the clothes in and mindless dumping a shit load of detergent in. After pressing a few buttons he gets it to start filling with water. Satisfied he turns around to see Danny opening the door to his room. Red light floods out momentarily before its flicked off. 

Fuck. 

Danny's eyes meet his for just a moment. Frank doesn't let himself freeze up, instead walking down the hall past Danny as casually as he can. 

"You forgot something?" He asks. No way Danny was going to accused him of going into his room like some toddler. 

"No. Just left my light on." Danny replies, moving past Frank to shut off the light in the ither room, "Silly of me." 

\- x - 

Frank was on his third rum and coke when the man sat next to him. His birthday was yesterday so he could finally drink in this shitty country. He glances over, but ignores him in favor of watching the band that was currently playing. It was a weeknight so despite the later hour the bar had fifteen people meandering around including the band. It was the grimey type of dive filled with bad types that he had been looking for all his life. The band wasn't half bad, they were playing a cover of Sad but True with their own spin. He appreciated it. 

"Hey uh, weird question dude but.. are you Frank Morrison?" The man asks. 

"Yeah?" He replies, turning to look at the guy. He was an average looking skinny white dude not unlike himself. The man smiles like its his birthday. 

"Shit not to sound really fucking lame but I'm actually a big fan of Legion! I thought I was totally tripping when I saw your neck tat but, holy shit!" 

Okay, its hard not to be flattered at this guy gushing. On tour he was used to fans, but to meet one out in the middle of nowhere? That was pretty cool. 

"Glad to hear that, buddy." 

"Are you playing here tonight?" The man asks, looking around for his friends, "Wait shit aren't you missing?" 

Frank tilts his head, "Uh, am I?" 

"Dude it was like on the news!" The guy turns to the bar tender, "Hey Garry remembered that punk guy that went missing in Michigan on the news?" 

The bartender turns to them, looking over Frank closely for the first time. A flash of recognition lights in his eyes and he grins. 

"Yo you're right that is the guy! I heard that the Ghostface got him." 

The two laugh and Frank rolls his eyes. Sipping his drink as the bartender hustles off to serve another patron. 

"What do you mean I'm missing though?" Frank asks again, "Are people looking for me?" 

The guy shrugs, "I think it was your agent that was on the news, saying that you were kidnapped or something? It sounded like a publicity stunt or something, but I guess a few people are out lookin'." 

God thats fucking annoying, Danny was going to be pissed to find out that he was being looked for by the cops. 

"I have to make a phone call." Frank groans, finishing off his drink and standing, "Thanks for the heads up." 

"Oh sure! Nice to meet you!" 

He makes his way out of the bar and into the dark streets. Marching down the street towards the nearest payphone booth and shoving quarters into the machine. He dials Julie's number, rage mounting as he's forced to input his credit card number to pay for the international call. She picks up on the third ring. 

"Kostenko residence." Julie's voice was a little tinny through the phone and it almost relaxes him to hear her after so long. 

"Julie why the fuck-" 

"Frank?" She interuppts, sounding incredibly relieved to hear from him, "Where the hell are you?" 

"Shut the fuck up! Why the hell are the cops looking for me, Julie?" He growls, wishing he could see the panic and fear in her eyes. 

"Oh don't take that tone with me you little fucker!" Julie snaps, "You fucking vanished on us! I mean I figured you were fine but Greg started freaking out and got the cops involved. So hey, fucker, where the hell are you?" 

"It doesn't matter! I'm fine! I've always been fine! Call Greg and tell him to get the cops off my ass." 

"No! Fuck you!" 

"Oh you stupid fucking bitch!" Frank screams, banging his fist against the glass, "Tell Greg I want him to suck my cock and put whatever he doesn't swallow on a tour bus!" 

He slams the phone on the receiver in a rage. It makes him feel a little better so he starts slamming it down again and again wishing that it was someone's body. All he wanted to do was take his pain out on someone else. To inflict the rage on the entire fucking world. His breath is coming fast and harsh now. In this booth in the oppressive foreign heat Frank feels like the only person in the universe. 

"Frank." 

He turns to see Danny on the other side of the glass door. Lit only by the dim far away streetlights. 

"How did you find me?" 

"Only place in town that has decent punk music." Danny replies with a shrug. 

For some reason he doesn't want to leave the booth. It's almost like some sort of sanctuary. When he's in here he can rage as much as he wants and no harm will actually come to anyone he cares for. He watches as Danny steps forward and pulls the door of the booth open. A breeze blows in, cooling the sweat on his skin. 

"We're gonna head out early. Got a few places to be." 

"Already?" 

"Well..." Danny looks off into the distance for a moment before looking back, "Florida isn't really for us. Don't you think?" 

"Yeah. Its too hot."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Danny is just a little freak


	6. Virginia

Danny had barely said a word in almost two days and Frank was starting to get pissed. He looks at the gouges to see the pointer hovering over the E. Thankfully the exit sign showed a gas station. Quickly he takes an exit, cutting off some guy who lays on his horn. A glance at Danny and the man is staring out the window like always. 

"What side is the fuel on." 

Utter silence is his response, and he swerves into a spot angrily. Maybe fucking with Danny's car would get him to pay some fucking attention to him. Danny blinks, looking forward and seeing the gas station. Mechanically he gets out of the car and stares at the building. 

"Danny, what the fuck is wrong with you?" Frank hisses, causing the man to look at him with wide empty eyes, "Are you on drugs? Like super fucking crazy drugs that make you turn into a catatonic slug?" 

Absolutely no response. If Frank had known this shit would happen after leaving Florida he would have talked Danny into staying longer. 

"You useless fucking twat! I hope you crash your fucking car." Frank hisses, stomping away from Danny and into the store. 

He knows Danny had followed him because the store bell dings and dimly he hears the man pay for gas. Nothing in the convince store looked appealing so he sees his way out, watching Danny turn the car around so he can pump gas. Not wanting to go near the catatonic jerk he wanders over to a nearby picnic table to mope about. He was fairly certain Danny wasn't going to drive off without him. A breeze blows by and a paper flutters next to him. Someone had left an old copy of the newspaper on the table. Curiously he turns it towards himself. The cover of it is a man in a cheap Halloween costume. The mask is one he's seen in all sorts of convenience stores once Halloween rolls around. He vaguely remembers buying and wearing a mask just like it during his last Halloween in Calgary, a night spent throwing bricks through windows and lighting off fireworks. 

'GHOSTFACE KILLER MIA WHERE WILL HE STRIKE AGAIN?' 

The headline is so doofy he starts skimming through the article. A few people had mentioned that name, Ghostface or something. The article is so annoyingly wordy he can barely glean any useful information from it. He should tell Julie about this guy when he gets back. She loves researching this shit, though it would probably be hard to do back in the boonies. She's smart though, she'll find a way. Two cold hands wrap around his neck and squeeze. Frank gasps in fear, shoving his elbow back and hitting soft flesh. Behind him, someone gasps in pain and he turns around. Ready to punch his attacker in the face only to see Danny holding his side with a look of pain on his face. 

"What the fuck do you want?" Frank grumbles. At least Danny looked more like his usual self. 

"To apologize." Danny says, gritting his teeth in pain as he stands up straight, "For acting weird." 

Frank frowns at Danny, to annoyed at the quirky behavior that was getting way out of hand for his manipulation tactic. He decides to go with them didn't treatment and fixes Danny with a cold hard stare. Danny hisses through his teeth and straightens up, cold dark eyes with the same catatonic dullness as before. He's smiling but it doesn't reach his eyes. 

"Hey, Frank have you ever felt...outside yourself?" Danny asks, acting like Frank isn't looking at him like he's the scum of the earth, "Like every time you move your body your soul is just a few seconds behind you? And that the only way to get back inside yourself is to do something...horrible." 

What Danny was describing wasn't unfamiliar. There were some days where he woke up and his body got out of bed but nothing else did. Like the day after he killed the janitor. But eventually, the feeling would pass. He didn't _need_ to do anything to fix it. 

Although he hasn't felt...misaligned since that cold winter night. 

"I'll drive for a bit." Danny says, walking towards the car, "We're a little off track, my bad!" 

Frank follows behind him, dropping in the passenger seat and slouching as Danny starts the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shorter one, sorry


	7. North Carolina

Frank wades in the water, chasing after a crab that was shuffling away from him. It was a fast bugger, but he was faster. Hands piercing the water and grabbing the little creature by the fat body. He lifts it from the salty waves and examines the thing. Its shell was dark brown, nearly black, but its legs were pale white and blue. 

"Hey, Danny what's this?" He yells, turning to the man ideally making a big mound of sand a few meters from the shoreline. 

"Hmm? Dunno. Bring it here." 

Frank splashes out of the water and jobs over to Danny, spraying, and saltwater everywhere as he holds the crab out to Danny. The man tilts his head as the creature snaps its claws at him uselessly. 

"It's a blue crab." 

"No shit." 

Danny shrugs, "Well fuck Franky what did you want me to say?" 

"I dunno a fun fact or something." 

Danny sighs and looks at the crab again, lifting his sunglasses to get a better look at the creature, "It's a male. You can tell because the claws are orange." 

"Bitchin'." Frank reaches into his pocket and pulls out his Swiss army knife. Flipping out the blade and gleefully putting it into the crab's claw, "Look how he's armed." 

A reluctant smile appears on Danny's face as the crab slashes at him with the knife. 

"They're edible. I can cook it for you." 

"No way. I can't eat things I've held." Frank smiles at his crab friend. Danny reaches into his shoulder bag and pulls out his digital camera. Painting it at Frank and taking a picture of him and the crab. 

He plucks the knife from the crustaceans claw and sets him on the ground. Watching it scuttle back into the ocean. The others were going to be so jealous when he tells him about seeing the ocean and catching crabs. Danny had stopped at the beach two hours ago at his request, and Frank was not planning on leaving soon. If Danny was annoyed by this he was doing a good job of hiding it. Sitting patiently on the white sands, alternating between writing and building sandcastles only to kick them down. 

He returns to the water's edge, staring into the endless blue waves. Living in the city his entire life meant he had never seen so much water. Joey had driven them all out to a lake once, but it was only about ten meters across and never deeper than his chest. This was an endless expanded that both enraptured and scared him a little. 

"Aren't you gonna go out there?" 

Danny's voice makes him jump, and he sees the man step silently next to him. 

"What like into the water?" Frank asks, looking down at the jeans he's rolled up to his knees. Not exactly swimming attire. 

"Yeah. I mean we're at the beach. Figured that's why you asked to pull over." 

Frank grits his teeth and crosses his arms over his chest, "I can't swim." 

Danny raises his eyebrows over his sunglasses and looks Frank up and down. 

"Really?" 

"Yeah, I fucking lived in the middle of the city all my life in some orphanage. They're not exactly sending us little shits to the pool to learn how to doggy paddle." 

A few moments of silence pass before Danny takes his shirt and sunglasses, revealing just how built the guy is. It's when he unbuttons his pants and slides them off to reveal black boxers underneath that Frank speaks up. 

"The fuck are you doing?" Frank asks. 

"Take your pants off." Danny orders. 

"Why?" 

Danny looks at him like he's the idiot in this situation. 

"I'm going to teach you how to swim." 

He brightens up, eagerly unbuttoning his pants and tugging them down. If he learned how to swim he could teach the others how to swim too. Danny wades into the water and Frank follows behind. The water is cool against the heat of the sun, and he feels pretty confident as the waves start to lap at his upper thighs. His confidence chips slightly when the water reaches his belly button. 

"Alright, basic stuff is pretty easy. Kicking and paddling, you've seen it on TV, right?" 

Frank nods, "Yeah. Freestyle and shit. I've seen it." 

"Cool, cool. So we can start with floating, it's a basic survival technique." 

He stares blankly at Danny, waiting for more instructions. Danny rolls his eyes and steps forward, resting a wet hand on Frank's shoulder. 

"Lay on your back." 

"Like in the water?" 

Danny rolls his eyes and nods, "Yeah, you'll float." 

Frank doesn't think he will, but hey Danny's the expert here. He lays on his back in the water and sinks like a stone. Quickly he stands and glares at Danny. 

"Huh." That is all the nan replies, "Never seen that happen." 

"You're not helping me." 

"Do it again." Danny orders. 

He rolls his eyes but lays back anyway. This time he feels Danny's hand under his back keeping him afloat. Frank raises his eyebrows at Danny. 

"That's cheating," Frank says, voice muffled due to the water covering his ears. 

"Shut up. Some people don't float as well." 

"Liar." 

"Fuck you I float like a jellyfish." Danny rolls his eyes, "Start moving your arms and kicking." 

He sighs but does as told. Danny gently guides him in circles with the hand at his back as he paddles. After a few minutes, he starts feeling pretty good about his ability to not drown. 

"So I'm gonna let you go, and you can just flip onto your stomach and do the same thing," Danny says. Frank nods, nervousness bubbling in his chest and Danny counts down and moves away. 

He sinks ever do slightly before flipping over and paddling. To his surprise, swimming comes easily to him. He carves through the water without fear and laughs, turning and attempting to stand only for his feet to not touch the bottom. Fear fills him as his head goes under the waves. His arms flail uselessly before he feels something grip his arms and his head breaks the surface. Gasping desperately he clings to the wet warm body of Danny and starts coughing up the saltwater he swallowed. 

"Calm down, buddy." Danny says, soft voice working wonders on his nerves as he feels them moving through the water, "Didn't realize it dropped off so quickly." 

His throat burns and his eyes sting with saltwater. This was an awful idea. Fuck swimming. Fuck water. He was never getting in it ever again. 

"Franky, you can let go of me," Danny murmurs bringing him to reality. 

He had his legs wrapped around Danny's waist like a vice. Embarrassed he unclamps his legs and drops into the soft sands. The water was up to his chest, but thank god it wasn't any worse. He releases Danny's shoulders to rub his eyes. 

"Thanks for trying," Frank grumbled, annoyed at acting in such a foolish way. 

"No, no you learned pretty quick. I've never taught anyone to swim so I'm not the best teacher." Danny says hands still resting on his hips, "Besides you're pretty cute when you think you're going to die." 

"Wow." Frank deadpans, "I can't believe you picked me up at a bar." 

"Don't act like it didn't work." Danny teases, his hands starting to trail up his chest. His breath catches briefly in his throat as Danny runs his fingers through his short wet hair. 

He watches the smiles seem to fade from Danny's face as his dark eyes become hallow. It's not exactly fear that creeps up his spine but a former of apprehension. He gets the feeling that Danny wants nothing more than to hurt him. 

"So uh, wanna race to the shore?" Frank says, snapping Danny out of his thousand-yard stare. The man quickly pulls his hand back. 

"I'll give you a head start." 

Frank starts doggy paddling towards shore. Three seconds later Danny breezes past him, carving through the water like a shark until he can stand and jogs to the shore. Frank hits the shore about thirty seconds behind and ignores the smug look Danny gives him. 

"I didn't do too bad for my first time." 

"You're a real natural." Danny says, filling Frank with warm pride, "A little practice and you won't drown anytime soon." 

He watches Danny shake out his short hair and shake the sand out of his shirt. Frank looks back at the water. It's tempting to get back in and paddle around, but his chest hurts from inhaling saltwater. Not to mention he didn't want to get rescued by Danny again. 

"You did swimming?" Danny asks, tilting his head towards the ocean. 

"Yeah." 

"Cool. We can wash all the salt and sand off at those showers." Danny inclines his head to a hut they had parked near. Frank follows him after he grabs his bag and clothing. 

Danny pushes the door to the shack open, revealing a bare-bones concrete bathroom with urinals and four stalls with flimsy curtains. Frank drops his clothes in one of the sinks and enters the stall. There was no dial for heat just a button which he pushes. Lukewarm water weakly pisses from the showerhead. There's no soap so he just scrubs his body and hair until he feels like enough salt has run off his skin and the water turns its sorry stream off. Frank looks down at his soaking wet black boxers and curses. Of course, he had spares in his suitcase but he didn't grab any since he hadn't been planning on getting wet today. From the next stall, he still hears the sounds of splashing water. Reassured that Danny was occupied he pulls off his wet boxers and wrings them out as best he can. Water cascades from the fabric in one big splash. 

Despite the warmth of the day he still shivers at being completely exposed in a concrete box with only a curtain keeping prying eyes from him. It reminds him of when they went if a bleak field trip to that juvenile facility and walked through the showers. Frank had never done time in one, and the trip convinced him to toe the line instead of the cross it. What was it his foster family's kid called him after they sucked each other off? Prison bitch? Something like that. He squeezes more water from his clothes before pulling them back in and pulling back the curtain. 

Danny was already out and pulling on his shirt. He walks up next to the man and attempts to pull on his jeans. A struggle since they're tight and his legs are still wet. Finally, he manages to pull them over his ass so he can put on his AC/DC shirt. When he looks up Danny is staring at him again. 

"What?" 

"You ever think about getting more tattoos?" Danny asks as Frank crouches to pull on his shoes. 

"Well yeah. I got lots of skin left." He had a list of ideas somewhere in his notebook, "You got any tattoos?" 

"Hmm? No, I don't. I have trouble with commitments." Danny shrugs and ties on his boots. 

"Is there a parlor around? We should get you one!" 

Danny snorts and stands up, giving Frank a bemused look. 

"I don't think that's a good idea." 

"Oh come on. We can get matching ones!" Frank says, nudging Danny's side as he walks out of the shack and towards the car. 

"...Matching?" Danny murmurs, sounding genuinely interested now. 

"Yeah, we can get two quick flash tattoos to commemorate this road trip." 

Danny gets behind the wheel and starts the car, "We can check out a parlor, but no promises." 

Frank holds back a cheer, settling for a smug smile. He looks over at Danny and frowns. Just above the man's eyebrow was a massive seven-centimeter scar that stretches from the middle of his nose to his temple. 

"Have you always had that scar?" 

Danny curses when Frank asks and reaches into his bag, pulling out a tube of sorts. Frank recognizes it as a concealer the girls would sometimes steal from the store. Danny tilts the rearview mirror towards himself and quickly dabs a bit over the scar, rubbing the liquid in until the thick white scar is hidden away. 

"Sorry. Self-conscious." The man murmurs, putting the tube away and readjusting the mirror. 

That was odd, but he's seen Danny do worse, "How'd you get it?" 

"Hmm? Oh, I uh...got hit with a broken beer bottle at a party once." 

"Oh, that's cool. I got my falling on a table." 

Danny snorts, "That's pretty embarrassing. Can you try and make up a cooler story?" 

The real story was that one of his many foster parents had smashed a plate over his head and royally fucked up his face. But falling on a table was a funnier story than that miserable shit show. 

"Eh, maybe I'll try." 

Danny pulls up to a tattoo store and Frank eagerly jumps out. The place looked much cleaner than the one he had gotten his stuff done at. Once inside he beelines to the flash section, looking over the designs. Usually, he took a few days deciding on a cool design before actually getting anything. The guy he got his best tattoo with was based in Calgary, the others were done by an apprentice in Richards. While they looked good he ended up having to do about five sessions of touchups. Hopefully, the guys here were better than him. 

"You know Frank, why don't you just draw me something." 

"What you serious?" He asks, looking away from the tattoos and at Danny skeptically, "I can't draw." 

Danny shrugs, sliding him a piece of paper and a pencil. 

"I asked them if they would tattoo anything we give them and they said yes. I think he thinks we're gay. Anyway just, I dunno draw that cute little smiley face and I'll draw you something." 

If Danny wanted that dumb little face on his body Frank wasn't going to argue. He sets the paper on the counter a quickly ships up his favorite little doodle. He makes it larger than usual, about the size of his palm. Danny looks at it and frowns. 

"That's way too big." 

"They need it big to trace it. You can get it smaller. Now make me something." 

Danny takes the pencil and Frank watches him start to sketch out an off-looking shape. It takes a few moments for him to recognize the plastic mask that was in the newspaper. Wasnt it the guide if sone serial killer? 

"Seriously?" Frank snorts, "That's what you want me to get?" 

Danny shrugs, setting the pencil down and looking at the two drawings carefully, "It looks pretty cool though, in a creepy way, y', know?" 

He stares at the heavy black lines and shrugs. At least it wasn't dumb looking. A cheap Halloween mask tattoo wasn't the worst thing he had considered putting on his body. 

"Where are you gonna get yours?" Frank asks as he passes the paper to uninterested-looking tattoo artists. 

"On my chest, you?" 

"Shit, I got a room there too." Frank shrugs, "Putting it over your heart, faggot?" 

Danny lets out a soft laugh, "Only if you do the same." 

"Fine, but only because you getting that is more embarrassing." 

A few minutes later he's sitting in the chair checking out the stencil in the mirror. The mask was about the size of his palm and positioned just above his nipple. It complements the snake slithering up his sternum. 

"You sure you wanna get this?" The guy says, already firing up his machine and dipping it in ink, "Considering uh, current events." 

"I'm Canadian." 

"Shit, well guess that changes things." The guy laughs and presses the needle to his skin. 

Frank takes a slow breath, familiar heat and pain running through his body. To say he liked hurting himself was inaccurate, but he liked the way pain made him feel. The sensation of release was an addiction he couldn't quite kick. He got tattoos on his hands to keep from burning himself, only to start putting out his cigarettes on his stomach. And then when he quit smoking he just found a fun new ways to hurt himself. All too soon the nan wipes away the ink for the final time and sits back. 

"How's it look?" 

He sits up and looks in the mirror. The skin around the stark black ink was red and swelled slightly from irritation. Otherwise, the lines were sharp and clear. 

"Pretty damn good." He says as he pulls on his shirt. 

The guy smiles and applies cream and a clear adhesive to it, running over some basic care as Frank walks out into the lobby to pay for it. Danny was already in the lobby with his shirt on, which was disappointing because he wanted to see the results. 

"How you feel?" Frank asks, passing the guy behind the counter his credit card. Danny was paying in cash. 

"Like someone took a tazer to my heart, you?" Danny grumbles, tapping his fingers over his heart, presumably where the tattoo was. 

"I always thought of it more like iodine on a cut." Frank muses, tucking his card back into his wallet and following Danny out of the store, "Soooo, can I see it?" 

Danny snorts, "Show me yours I'll show you mine." 

Frank starts to pull his shirt up only for Danny to grab his hand to stop him. 

"Wait till we get to the car. I wanna see it in private." 

An odd request, but whatever he doesn't mind waiting a bit. As they walk he notices that there aren't a lot of people out in the town. Though he doesn't know this place's activity level it is a seaside town during summer. Even if it was a weekday shouldn't it be filled with tourists or something? They pass a memorial on the street. A picture of some girl amidst a huge pile of flowers and burn candles at the mouth of an alley. 

"Whos that?" 

Danny looks at the shrine as if noticing it for the first time. A sinister smile appears on his face and he shrugs. 

"Dunno. Maybe someone who died." 

That sucked, but at least she got a nice memorial out of it. He remembered when some kid in the system died and he only got a sad shrug out of a few people. Frank included of course. Maybe if he never went back to Ormond the others would make him a little shrine. Though it would probably be a stack of beer bottles, cigarettes, and knives. Which would be pretty cool in his opinion. They cross through an alley to get back to the spot they parked. His fingers brush the passenger side door when Danny grabs his hips and turns him around. He's pressed against the sun-warmed metal of the car as Danny starts to lift his shirt up. Frank takes a quick look around to make sure no one just does happen to be walking to their car while Danny decided to get frisky. Shouldn't he have done this on the beach? Though maybe he had some sort of in public fetish. 

When his tattoo is revealed it's unlike anything Frank's ever seen. He expected Danny to smile when he saw it, maybe laugh at him. Instead, Danny becomes cold, unmoving over him as his dark eyes seem to swallow him whole. Icey fear starts trickling down his spine as the seconds' tick on. Above him, Danny is unmoving, seemingly not even breathing. It makes Frank nervous. Like if he says anything some spell will break and Danny will attack him like a rabid dog. Still, he can't just sit here and let Danny droll over him. Swallowing he cracks a smile and gently rests his hands on Danny's hips, hooking his fingers into the man's belt loops and pulling him forward until their hips brush. 

"Like what you see?" 

When Danny's dark eyes flick up to meet Frank's face he feels like he's going to be crushed like a bug. Few times in his life had someone looked at him with such annoying disdain. Like Danny just remembered he was another human person and he would have to be dealt with. 

Then Danny grabs his face and smashes their lips together. The man's teeth graze his lip painfully before clicking against his teeth. Danny's fingers grip his short hair when he tries to pull back, forcing his tongue in Frank's mouth. 

On one hand, he didn't mind the aggressive nature of these advances, but it felt like Danny was trying to distract him. From what he didn't quite know. Eventually, Danny pulls away, lips wet with their mixed saliva and eyes wild. 

"I uh, lost....control there..." Danny murmurs faltering slightly as he speaks, "But it looks really good." 

Frank nods slowly, hoping that his expression is one of utter contempt. Danny shrugs helplessly and pulls away from Frank. Looks like he was going to try and shrug this whole thing off just like everything else he does. Frank really shouldn't let it slide be sure it was starting to get more and more erratic. He sucks his lip, tasting blood from where Danny had punctured the already chapped skin with his teeth. 

"Don't do that again," Frank warns. 

Danny tilts his head, a look of confusion masking his face, "Kiss you? I uh, I know the bar and all I assumed-" 

"It's not that just-" Frank sighs, "Don't fucking come at me like that." 

"Hmm?" 

He wipes his lip, looking at the smear of blood on his hand before shrugging, "You smashed our faces together, Danny. Try it again and I'll break your nose." 

"Jesus Franky I didn't realize you were so sentimental sober." Danny scoffs, rolling his eyes, "I'll be sure to ask very nicely next time, okay?" 

"Whatever." Frank opens the passsnger door and drops inside. He leans back and tries to look as casual as possible instead of pouting. Danny gets to in the driver's side and starts the car. 

"Can I see yours?" 

Wordlessly the man half turns to Frank and lifts his shirt. In the same spot as his mask was the smiley face, he had drawn everywhere. It fills him with a sense of pride and he can't hold back a smile. 

"Looks good."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Splashing around in the water like two little rats.


	8. Georgia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Eye trauma, gore

Frank opens his eyes and sits up. Crack his neck and bones with a groan. He looks at the front seat and he's not surprised to see Danny was staring at him from the front seat in fascination. 

"What?" He grumbles, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. 

"Hmm? Nothin'." 

"You fucking freak." Frank crawls into the front seat and stumbles out of the car. 

It was bright and sunny at the truckstop they turned in for the night. Danny had paid for a shower and he felt much more refreshed because of it. His tattoo was healing nicely and finally stopped hurting when touched. As he walks around the car and pops the trunk he peeks down his shirt to see if he could get away with not washing it first thing in the morning. 

"Wanna drive?" Danny asks, grabbing the last poptart from the box, "I'm feeling a little...off." 

"Sure." Frank helps himself to a granola bar, "You not gonna throw up are you?" 

"Nah. Just need to sit back and write a bit." 

Frank shrugs, dropping the wrapper on the ground, and closes the trunk. Danny directs him out of the lot and onto highway 83. It's a bright day, sun trickling over the rolling hills and oaken trees. Frank finds it hard to enjoy the view, as his thoughts were drifting back to Danny staring at him again. What was with that guy? He didn't dream about the resort tonight so there was no way he was mumbling about it again, right? As fun as this was he should probably cut his losses sooner rather than later and head home. Not that he was scared of Danny, he just didn't enjoy the way he would stare at him. A hitchhiker sticks his the out at Frank. 

"Stop." Danny says suddenly. 

"What?" Frank starts slowing down, "You wanna pick that guy up?" 

"Yes." 

The car slows to a stop and the man runs forward to the car with a big grin on his face. Danny has to get out to pull the seat forward and let him into the backseat. 

"Where you heading?" Danny asks, closing the door as Frank steers back onto the road. 

"Athens! You guys?" 

"Ehh, wherever we end up!" Danny replies, sounding annoying chipper. 

"That's cool, that's cool! What do you two do then of you get to travel around?" 

Frank tries to ignore them, instead focusing on the road. Unfortunately, Danny nudges his elbow to get him to respond. 

"I'm in a band." He admits, glancing at the rearview mirror for the first time since he's driving Danny's car. For some reason the mirror wasn't pointed at the back window but the seat, giving him a perfect view of the man in the back seat. 

"Whoa, you like famous? Wait, are you Curt Cobain?" 

"What? No that- that guys dead?" Frank rolls his eyes, deciding to go back to ignoring the man in the back. 

Danny turns in his seat, for some reason completely invested in whatever the fuck the loser in the back was saying. The blabbering of a conversation he wasn't interested in is something he didn't miss. He ticks up the radio a bit, trying to focus on the pounding beats of his Metallica tape. A few times Danny tries to rope him into their conversation a few times but a sour glare gets the man off his case. 

They pass a sign that says the next town is 80 miles away. 

An elbow bumps him and he growls at Danny to watch it as the man suddenly climbs into the back. Thankfully there wasn't anyone else on the road do his swerving goes unnoticed. Over the music, he can hear a few grunts and glances in the mirror to see Danny wrestling the man in the back seat. Frank rolls his eyes and is about to tell Danny to knock it the fuck off when the hitchhiker screams in pain. 

"What the hell are you-" the stranger cries out as a wet thumping sound hits his ears. 

Frank turns slightly to look in the back seat. He can only look for a few seconds, but the image is burned into his mind. 

Danny has a deadly hunting knife in his hand, the silver blade dull with red blood. An expression of deep boiling rage painted Danny's face, which was swallowed with blood spraying from the hitchhiker's arteries. 

He looks towards the road, jerking the wheel back into his lane and slamming the breaks. The seat shifts as Danny bumps in it and he feels a hand grip his shoulder with horrific strength. 

"If fucking car stops I will shove a coat hanger so far up your dickhole you'll beg me to kill you." Danny hisses. 

Frank takes his foot off the brake and presses the gas. The car jerks forward, and Danny releases his shoulder. Drums from the speakers start to overwhelm him as the man in the backseat begs for help. Below him, white lines pass under the car, which was now going sixty-five miles per hour. He looks in the rearview mirror with disgusted fascination. 

The hitchhiker was still weakly pushing against Danny's shoulders. His shirt was soaked with blood, a mash of black bloody cuts. It looked just like the janitor. Danny's gloved hands grip the hitchhiker's throat as he leans down and pokes the bloody tip of the knife against the man's wide horrified eyes. The road was empty, and Frank jerks the wheel back into his lane. 

A cry of fresh agony and the man's eye was impaled by the knife. With one smooth move, Danny slices the eyeball in half horizontally. The hitchhiker starts shaking his head, covering his eyes with his hands futile as clear fluid gushes out of the deflating organ. Frank's breaths are coming fast, and he can barely tear his eyes away from the scene in the backseat long enough to keep them steady on the road. Every time he looks into the tiny mirror he's forced to watch himself along with this scene. He's forced to look at the terrifying smile on his face. Danny growls something to the man as he digs his knife into the other eye. 

A car going the other way passes them. He can see a family inside. Danny's bloody hand grabs the back of his seat and Frank jumps. 

"Pull over." 

He takes his foot off the gas but hesitates to hot the breaks, earlier threat still echoing in his mind. 

"I won't hurt you." 

Swallowing hard he pulls the car over onto the side of the road. Densely packed trees sway in the breeze on either side of the highway. Danny reaches down and the passenger seat jerks forward. Frank puts the car in park, and Danny quickly takes the keys out of the ignition before opening the passenger door and getting out. The sudden silence was horrid. From the open door heavy humid air and bird calls drifted in. His heartbeat was so loud in his ears it almost drowns out his breathing. Danny reaches in and grabs the hitchhiker's upper arm to pull him towards the door. 

"Come help." Danny orders, grunting as he manages to get the upper half of the dead man out of the car. 

Frank looks at his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were pale. There wasn't any blood on them this time. 

"Move it!" Danny snaps, spurring him into action. 

Fumbling with the handle he opens the door and shakily steps out of the car. He walks around the front as Danny moves to free up one of the arms. The limp hand flops towards him and he grabs it, dragging the corpse from the car with little difficulty. Immediately he lets go and the body rolls down the grass a few feet. God was this how Susie felt that night? No, she was a better person than he was. 

"Hey nice, didn't get blood too much blood on my seats. It's such a bitch to get out." Danny laughs then looks at the corpse, "Grab his feet." 

Frank does as told, gripping the tattered jeans as Danny grabs the arms. The man's shirt was had so many puncture wounds it was in shreds. Below the bloody fabric was minced meat. Blood was seeping steadily from the meat and soaking his orange shirt deep black. His eyes trail up and his stomach twists, bile rising in his throat at the sight of the eyeless slack face. Clear fluid drips down its face mixed with blood. A deflated case of what was once an eye hangs limply by the optical nerve, bobbing with every step. He finally gags and drops the corpse's legs, stepping a few feet away and dropping to his knees to vomit in the grass. Half digested granola and bright blue liquid come out as he dry heaves miserably. That blue slush puppy was not as good the second time. He spits in the grass and turns to face Danny. Not trusting himself to stand yet so sitting instead. 

"Thought you'd have a stronger stomach." Danny comments, staring up at Frank with disappointment, "Oh don't look at me like that." 

Frank rests his head in his hands and takes a few deep breaths. He still felt sick. There was no adrenaline to keep the horror at bay this time, and in broad daylight, the blood and gore were staring him dead in the eyes and threatening to make him sick again. He can hear Danny grunt in exertion and the sound of a buddy being dragged along the grass. Steeling his nerves he stands up and follows Danny down the hill to the treeline. The man was standing over the body with a camera clicking away. He looks up when Frank steps on a stick and smiles. 

"My black room comes in handy, eh?" Danny laughs and tucks the camera back into his pocket, "Oh hey check this out!" 

Danny pulls something from his coat pocket and holds a closed fist out to Frank. He stares at it suspiciously until Danny opens his fist revealing a bright blue eyeball sitting in his palm staring at him. Immediately Frank gags, stomach roiling as he rests his hands on his knees vomiting up stomach acid. His throat burns as he spits miserably on the grass. 

"Oh don't be a baby. It's just an eyeball." Danny snickers and chucks the organ into the trees. 

He crouches down and pats the man's pockets, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and his wallet. Danny digs through it, pocketing what looks like a driver's license and five bucks before dropping it onto his chest. Stripped of everything that matters Danny grabs the man's arms again. "Take this guy's legs again and help me toss him into the woods." 

Frank nods meekly, grabbing the legs and lifting the body. Together they swing the body back and forth as Danny counts to three, releasing it on three and watching it sail into the shrubs. Just out of sight of the highway. Danny pulls off his shirt and wipes the blood off his face as warm raindrops start to fall. Frank looks down at his hands again. They were shaking. He didn't know when he got the blood on them but it drips down his fingers and collects in his palms. 

"Let's roll." 

\- x - 

Danny whistles cheerily as he transfers their wet clothes into the dryer. It was a pretty meager collection of articles, and at least one was still bloodstained. Frank runs his fingers through his hair and looks down at the angry red carpet. It took an hour to make it into town, and about ten minutes for Danny to find a laundromat. It was a rainy Tuesday so the only other person in the place was a man at the help desk reading a book. A TV in the corner was playing an episode of Gunsmoke. 

After they buried the janitor they all went to Julie's house. Frank turned on the TV and it was playing I Know What You Did Last Summer. Susie started crying and they all just went to bed. Or at least he went to bed, by the looks of it everyone else couldn't sleep. The next morning he made pancakes like nothing happened. They all just pretend everything was okay and got over it. And he could do that right now. Pretend that he totally didn't just witness a horrific nonsensical murder from a man he was in god knows where America with. 

He starts tapping his foot on the carpet, bike rising in his throat at the thought of what Danny could have done to him, could do to him. For fucks sake the man's dead sad had a deadbolt on the inside of his door. And what he said about the black room, the photos he took of the hitchhiker. Were all of those different victims? If he had anything left in his stomach he would have thrown it up at the thought of how many photos he saw. 

Two combat boots step into his line of sight. They were muddy and he wonders if there's any blood on them as Danny crouches. In his hands was a pink toy elephant with bulging eyes and a lolling tongue. Frank saw it in the claw machines on his way in. Slowly he looks up at the man's face. He doesn't know what expression he expects to see, but the blank passive expression isn't surprising. Danny's dark eyes study him and it's hard to meet them with his own now. 

"Was that too much?" Danny asks, "I mean after you didn't say anything about my room I assumed you figured it out and were cool with it." 

He swallows and tries to come up with something to say. Unfortunately, he can't even open his in this state. It was probably just shock numbing his nerves. So instead he just shrugs meekly and looks down at the ground again. 

"It's okay killer, first times are always rough." Danny ruffles his hair and presses the toy in his hand. Frank shudders at the nickname as Danny's boots silently creep away from him. 

Frank looks at the bug eyes of the toy and thinks about the eyeball in Danny's hand. Did he feel guilty? Or was he just disgusted by seeing such brutal mutilations? He squeezes the elephant, and it makes a high-pitched squeaky noise. It isn't until he hears the dryer stop that he looks up. Meeting Danny's dark eyes staring down at him from his perch on one of the washing machines. It takes a lot of strength to stand, but he does. Following Danny as a shadow as he empties the dryer and takes the clothes to the table to fold them. Frank simply plucks his warm shirts and jeans from the pile and makes his way to the car. 

It had stopped raining now. The heavy cloud humidity lifted and the fresh smell of wet dirt and grass fill the air. Bright sunlight reflects off droplets of water gathering on the red metal of the car. 

There was one less person in the world, and he wasn't even going to be missed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little over halfway through and we have our first murder! This scene was in the works since chapter one and in really happy to write it! Such a slow burn to murder


	9. Alabama

Cigarette smoke is what wakes him up. The little parts in his brain that never quite kicked the addiction when he stopped buying them. When he opens his eyes and looks to the left he's not surprised to see Danny staring at him. 

"Put that out. You don't smoke." Frank grumbles, breaking his silence and sitting up to look out the window. The bright lights of the truckstop made him think it was daytime, but beyond the floodlights were still shadows that threatened dawn. 

"Hmm? You don't know that." Danny says, flicking the thing out of the window anyway, "Since you're awake can you move? Gotta clean the back seat." 

Frank opens the door and climbs out. Watching Danny pull the seats forward before popping the trunk and bringing out a cleaning spray, sponges, and water. There were only a few spots of blood on the seats and roof of the car that he could see. Enough to get him to sleep in the front seat with Danny. They were parked away from the other cars, a fact that made him paranoid to be around Danny. Thankfully early birds were starting to trickle in for their coffee. 

"Why did you do that," Frank whispers as Danny meticulously scrubs the back seat covers. 

"Hmm? Oh, that guy. Well, you see it's hard to explain." Danny pauses and sits up in the seat, "You see I...well I kill people pretty often, and uh meticulously. So since I've been on the road I haven't been able to do that. And well, I didn't want to snap and stab you in your sleep because I really, really like you!" 

Danny laughs at that and smiles at Frank as if he complimented him. 

"You killed that man to...protect me?" Frank asks, not quite buying that excuse. 

"Well no, I'm not that nice!" Danny laughs before shrugging, "Don't think too hard on it Franky. I'm not gonna hurt you." 

That's not comforting. Frank decides to leave Danny to deep clean the crime scene and instead wonder the truckstop. He pushes open the door and looks half-heartedly at the knick-knacks that line the shelves. Tacky magnets displaying the name Alabama, which was a shitty-sounding name. Still, he slips one of the tacky items into his pocket as he wanders towards glass-blown figures. He was doing his best to not think about last night, but now that the adrenalin had passed he couldn't just forget about it. The entire time on the road Frank had thought he was the scariest motherfucker in the car and Danny just admitted he was a mass murderer. God, was it bad that five weeks into their road trip he just now realizes that it was a horrifically stupid idea to get in a strangers car in a foreign country. He didn't even know how fucking far away he was from the bordered. He didn't know if Alabam was the state he was in or a town. 

Though Danny did name the mistake of leaving him to his own devices. Without paying for anything he marches out of the store and to a nearby payphone. He manages to scrounge up a few fat American coins and puts them in the phone, he dials the operator number for a collection call before realizing he doesn't have his wallet on him. Did he leave it in his other pair of jeans? Or maybe it fell out in the car earlier. Fuck. The dial tone screeches in his ear, and he feels cold and lonely. He pushes the return button and pockets the coins. 

"Who was that?" Danny asks, making Frank jump. 

"...Just my band. Letting them know I'm good." Frank says, staring at Danny's impassive face. 

"Oh yeah, It's been a bit since you talked to them. Are they doing well?" 

"Yeah, they miss me but they're fine." 

"Cool. Cool. What do you want for breakfast?" 

Frank shrugs, "Coffee and whatever you get." 

"Sure thing." 

Danny goes into the gas station and Frank wanders back to the car. The inside smelled like cleaning fluid. He checks under the seat and his suitcase for his wallet but comes up dry. 

Maybe he should cut his losses and make a break for it. All he needed was his guitar and backpack anyway. He could hitchhike- 

He thinks about the man's screams of agony, and the eyeball resting in Danny's hand and shudders. 

What were the odds of him getting into the car of someone just like Danny? Hell, he was still sitting in the car of the murderer. At the very least he takes his switchblade from his bag and hides it in his pocket. It wasn't the most accessible but it was too hot to try and wear his jacket around. The door opens and Danny drops in with two cups of coffee and a box of doughnuts. He accepts the cup held out to him as Danny starts the car and pulls out. No chance of escaping yet. Making the most of being trapped he digs out a chocolate doughnut and practically inhales it. The coffee was surprisingly good, Danny put the perfect amount of cream and sugar in it. 

"I hate that you don't have cup holders," Frank complains. 

"Just put it between your thighs." 

"What if it spills and burns my cock off?" 

"Tough.".

Frank snorts, selecting a sprinkle doughnut next. Danny takes a glazed one and leans back. It's bizarre how normal he looks now after yesterday. It was easier to compartmentalize when all of them were wearing masks. This time he got the luxury of seeing the monster behind Danny's mask. It was horrific, and completely explained all the bizarre behavior he displayed earlier. Danny had said he was on the edge because of how long he went without killing, which was apparently only five weeks. God that was a horrific tolerance, Frank had gone two years without having to kill again. He did promise not to do anything like that violent again to Julie. Not that he kept that promise very well, but he hadn't killed anyone. 

"Danny..." 

"Hmm?" 

He sips his coffee and glances over at Danny. The man was staring out the window, driving safely. 

"Do...you kill people often?" Frank spits out, watching an annoying smile appear on Danny's face from his peripheral. 

"I do," Danny admits nonchalantly. 

He bites his lip, desperately wanting more information but unsure what angle to approach this topic from. Danny was being cagey on the subject, but maybe he wasn't asking the right questions. 

"So...how do you usually kill people?" 

Danny perks up I'm in his seat and Frank knows he's hit the correct point. A wistful expression appears on Danny's face and he sips his coffee, obviously savoring the silence. 

"I like to do it differently every time." The man says softly, "Everyone deserves a special death if it's coming from me." 

Frank selects another donut and takes a bit. How sinister, but no substance to those threats. 

"Uh-huh." He's careful to sound particularly disinterested. This seems to strike some chord in Danny. 

"Do you ever get a little tickle when you see someone do something when they think they're alone?" 

"What like get dressed?" 

"Sure. Or drop something on the floor and eat it, or kick their cat when they're upset. Things that you could hold against them." 

Frank nods, following Danny's train of thought. 

"You could see that from someone in one day, now imagine what you could see in two days. Or a week. Or two weeks. Eventually, you know everything about them, and they don't even know you exist." 

"What so you're a stalker too?" Frank teases, grabbing another donut. 

"And then one night you show up at their house, through the one window they keep unlocked in case they forget the key. Or through a window. Or hell you call them on the phone and tell them every little detail of their life. Can you just imagine the _fear_ in their eyes when they realize just how much you know? How little they know about the world around them? How vulnerable they are?" 

Frank swallows slowly, food resting heavily in his stomach. As Danny spoke his voice had dropped to a husky whisper of anticipation and revelry. What he was saying would be cheesy if not for the knowledge that Danny was telling the truth. 

"That's how I kill people, Frank." His voice cuts through the silence again, barely audible over the rumble of the engine, "I make it special." 

He sets the half-eaten doughnut back in the box. Cupping the cup of coffee and attempting to extract normalcy from the feeling of warmth. 

"You didn't exactly make it special for that hitchhiker," Frank says, Danny was just trying to make him uncomfortable. 

"I know, but I was slipping Frank. If I didn't kill him I don't know what I would've done to..." 

Danny trails off, but his intent is loud and clear. 

Frank sips his coffee and mulls over Danny's words. He was not a stalker, that's for damn sure. Danny's manifest made sense but it didn't quite strike the right chords in him. While he liked making people tick he preferred to do it face to face. Talking to others and nudging them towards what he wanted from them. He understood the satisfaction of knowing something about someone without them telling you it wasn't achieved by peeping through windows, it was slowly extracted from them over the conversation. It only took two talks with Julie to understand what she craved in life, and what she would do to get it. 

He thinks back to the way Danny spoke to the hitchhiker. The specifics of their conversation aren't memorable, he regrets not paying attention to what they were saying. Maybe Danny was doing what he did. Slowly pulling information out of that man to make sure he wouldn't be missed or finding a certain fear quickly to make the death better for him. 

There's a darkness within him now. He had always been a bad kid, but he never considered himself evil or depraved. Sure he did some bad things a few times. Crossed a few lines. Killing that janitor wasn't something he _wanted_ to do. 

"I killed someone once." 

The confession slips out like a death rattle. Swallowing he doesn't give Danny the chance to respond, "It was an accident. I didn't want to kill him but..." 

"Did you like it?" 

He swallows, staring at the tombstone with his name on it. 

"I think I did." 

Danny gently pats his knee, "Atta boy." 

A traitorous sense of warmth flares in his chest at the complement and he digs his nails into his palms. There was genuine pride in Danny's voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda short, sorry!


	10. Mississippi

"Today we are talking to a Psychologist that specializes in criminal cases." 

Frank dunks his sausage in syrup before looking back up at the TV as a dumpy old guy appears on screen. The diner Danny had stopped at was mostly empty, aside from the server and the cook they were the only people in the place. It was quaint and American so he was enjoying it as a tourist trap. 

"So what do you think has caused thus sudden dip in the Ghostface murders?" The host asks, being a good enough actor to sound genuinely concerned. 

"Well you see this is an interesting case." Yhe man clears his throat and a picture of a mask appears on the background screen. He recognizes it instsntly as the tattoo on his chest and frowns. 

"A pause in the murders could be that the police are closing in on our killer, and he's gone into hiding." 

He hears the woman behind the counter sigh and he looks over at her. She shakes her head sadly and glances at him, nodding to the TV before speaking. 

"You mind if I change this?" 

Frank shrugs, looking down at his plate and pushing a bit of scrambled eggs into the syrup, "Your diner." 

She wadfles over to the TV and switches the channel to a station going over the weather. Local and safe. Although now Frank's interest was no piqued over this killer thing that everyone's been talking about. 

"Who's Ghostface?" He asks, immedieyly earning a shocked look from the waitress. 

"Who's the Ghostface? That's like asking whos the president!" She says with a laugh as she leans against the counter. Frank shrugs and offers her a faux bashful smile. 

"Sorry I'm actually not from this country. Can you fill me in?" 

A sad expression appears on the woman's face and she looks wistfully out the window. It reminds him of the look on his tattooist face when he got that mask, or that lady at the gas station once. It was interesting to see such an uncommon fear on a variety of people. 

"Well he's like a real boogeyman I'll tell you. Cropped up at least three years ago I suspect, probably has a lot more under his belt. He's done everything from stalking to maiming. " The woman refills his coffee, "You see he has this uncanny way of slipping past the police and detectives at every turn. Just last year he started sending in pictures to the news paper and everything. Yet they can't find him. Once they seem to get close he up and hides the crops up somewhere else like an old tornado." 

"Sounds like something out of a horror movie." Frank adds when she pauses, polishing off his eggs. 

"Oh I know! Last year an anonymous source caught the Ghostface on tape! He was breaking into some poor souls house, I swear they played that thing everywhere." She shudders at the thought of it, "But I don't know whats scarier, that or radio silence." 

He slides his plate away and rests his hands elbows in the table. Up north he had vsugly heard whispers about this guy, but as always that was more Julie's scene not his. 

"So when did he go underground?" 

"About a month ago. Last victim was up in Michigan I believe. Oh you want more coffee honey?" 

Michigan. About a month. 

He swallows, thinking back to the mask sitting in Danny's bag. The black clothing, the job where he travels. Freelance author. Someone who could feed the media from the inside without being suspicious. Anyone else would have figured it out long before he did. 

"Sure thing!" Danny chirps, making him jump as the lady fills his mug. 

"Either way you two stay safe out there y'hear." The woman says, moving away to take another customers order. 

Slowly he looks at Danny. Their eyes meet immediately and the mans face breaks into a coy smile. 

"You want my eggs?" 

"No." 

Danny shrugs and drains his coffee before pulling a few bills out of his wallet and setting them down. Drank jumps off the stool and waves to the waitress as they leave. Danny was whistling as he unlocks his car. He glances at the trunk, wondering if the mask was in it. Maybe now was the time to fully tap out. Even he knew it was a bizzare leap in logic to stick with Danny when he was a common serial killer but not when he was some literally fucking boogeyman. 

"Where are we going?" He asks, not wanting to indulge Danny with his newfound knowledge. 

"West." 

"Have you seen my wallet?" 

"Hmm? Nope. Might be in the trunk." Danny shrugs. 

Frank hated it when Danny was short with him. It meant that he wanted something from Frank and he wasn't going to stop being a shithead until he got. Usually he would give in after he got bored enough. This time he wasn't going to let Danny get the satisfaction. 

"Take me to an airport." 

The car jerks violently as Danny hits the breaks, violently throwing him against the dashboard. Horns blare behind them as the man throws on the hazard lights and pulls off to the side of the road. Frank stares at Danny as the man sits still in the driver's seat. Hands at ten and two with his slavk face staring out the window. What could possibly be going through that demented head of his now? Slowly he reaches into his pocket and palms his switchblade. 

"You wanna tap out now?" Danny's voice is soft and empty, "After figuring it out you wanna quite on me?" 

Laughter fills the car and Danny takes his hands off the wheel to cover his face. Shoulders shaking from hysterics that cut off as quickly as they started. 

"I'm not taking you to an airport." 

"The fuck you aren't! I am not-" 

Danny whirls in his seat and lunges across the cabin. His fingers dig into Frank's shirt and he flips open the switchblade, pressing the tip against Danny's throat. The man doesn't seem to notice the weapon pointed at him from the bright fury in his eyes. As much as he wants to shove the knife all the way through the fucker neck he doesn't want to feel hot blood on his hands again. Warm breath washes over his face briefly as Danny leans in, knife piercing his skin and drawing a drop of blood. 

"If there is one thing I cannot _fucking_ stand is a quitter." Danny hisses, "I didn't take you for a little bitch. That's why you're in my car and not decomposing in a back alley." 

A sweaty hand takes his and Danny smashes it against the door. He still manages to grip the knife despite Danny's vice grip. 

"I'm going to ask you this once." Danny's tone melts into a dull emotionless drawl, "Are you going to back out now, or see the west coast with me?" 

He breaths slowly, contrasting with his racing heart. If he said no he was a dead man. If he said yes then his pride took a hit but he was still breathing. 

"I really should get back to the band..." He offers, slowly reaching behind him to feel the handle. Danny's eyes were fixed on him and not on his movements. 

"Its a yes or no, Franky." 

His hand grips the door handle and he's about to pull it when there's a knock on the window. Danny turns to look and curses, releasing Frank sitting in the front seat to crank the window down. 

"Hey! Sorry I saw the lights are you'll okay? Car trouble?" An older man asks from outside. 

"Oh no my friend gets motion sick! Don't you, buddy?" 

He nods quickly. The man stares at his face for a few seconds and smiles, "Alright well you feel better then!" 

There's crunching of gravel and a hot breeze blows in through the driver side window as Danny turns back to him. Frank points the knife at him again and tugs on the handle, bracing himself to tumble back onto the grass. 

Nothing happens. He looks at the handle and tugs it a few more times until noticing that the door was still locked. Danny sighs theatrically and Frank jerks his head back to meet his eyes. There was a contemplative look an his face. 

"What are you going to do if you get out of my car?" 

That was a very good question. He was in fuck all nowhere America with nothing to his name but the clothes on his back and a switchblade. The Land of Opportunity hadn't been particularly kind to him all things considering. Or maybe it had. It's not like Danny had actually hurt him over these weeks. Been weird and manipulative sure, but he wasn't about to call a kettle black. Despite this revaluation and a murder Danny had been genuinely nice to him. Something he wasn't used to with people older than him. While he wasn't a teenager anymore so many adults in Ormond and on tour still treated him as such. Danny, while a little condescending, seemed to enjoy his company. It strikes him that perhapse someone would react the same if they learned that he had killed a person before. And when he told Danny that he killed someone as well he was met with nothing but pride. Thinking back to thode words only fueled the dark thoughts that had been manifesting in his mind a few days ago. Maybe...he could watch Danny kill again? 

A cold hand cups his face. While in thought Danny had slid across the seat and was staring at him. Seemingly content to wait forever for an answer from him. Chipping at his own pride he squares his shoulders and glares at Danny. 

"I'll stay. But I want out at the end of next month." 

A smile spreads on Danny's face, "I think I can swing that." 

The others hand slowly slides up his thigh, and Danny leans in to press a kiss against his lips. Frank feels far to wound up to reciprocate it, but doesn't push Danny away. Instead letting him pull away on his own after a few moments. Danny pats his cheek and sits back in the driver's seat, starting the car and merging into traffic like nothing happened. 

"Do you want to kill with me?" Danny asks nonchalantly. 

"Yes." 

He doesn't hesitate on the answer.


	11. Arkansas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is unfinished and I don't expect to work on this fic again so I'm posting what I had mistakes and all

Danny lets out a murmur and he looks in the rearview mirror to see him somehow rolling over. Frank was surprised Danny could fall asleep back there with his legs curled up like that, but then again he hasn't seen the man actually sleep in almost two days. He looks back at the road. Danny had told him to keep driving on this highway until he sees a sign for the next state, somewhere called Oakland. That was four hours ago when he had woken up. Now it was around 12. He almost wished it was nighttime, but at least the scenery was interesting. 

It wasn't all that different than Canada in some ways. Large plains of bright green hills as far as they eye could see. Times like this always reminded him of the long drive to Ormond. The first time he had ever been outside the city limits and deep into the country. It's not like Ormond was some hick town, but it was nothing like the city. He'd often hear the townsfolk complain about the old rotton ski lodge, but to him it was the town that was rotten. The Mountain had done nothing but simply exist, and they made it out to be the villain. As if the ski lodge wasn't doomed to fail from the constant ignorance of the town. Can't have a tourist industry of the tourist trap looks like shit compared to other tourist traps. It's fucking Alberta for fucks sake, snow peaked mountains are basically grass up there. 

The first time he was brought up there by the others was one of his happiest memories. Sure they had been up there dozens of times but picking through the long forgotten rotten ruins was special to him. Susie had said that he reminded her of the Chalet. A lost cause that had failed only because no one tried to make it succeed. He scoffed it off at the time, but was touched by the insight. 

It made him sad that they had buried the body up there. They never went back up there after that. Maybe he should have had them drag the body further up the mountain. A few times he had driven up there on his own, stared at the pile of dirt for a long time. 

He wanted the rush again. It was there when Danny killed that man, but it wasn't as intense. Bogged down with panic and fear it spoiled the moment. While he could reflect on the experience it wasn't what he really _wanted_. Killing the janitor was good but what if it could be better? Premeditated murder was a line he never planned on crossing, but so was accidentally murder. That had to be a high like no other. 

A glance in the rearview reveals Danny still sleeping like a baby. Sleeps great for a murderer. But then again so did he. 

What are the odds that he was picked up in a bar by a serial killer that rivals Ed Gein in cultural influence? The fact that he was alive is a fucking miracle. He wasn't about to assume Danny wasn't planning on killing him, or at least thinking about a contingency plan. He had to be careful from now on. 

Or he could pull the steering wheel and kill them both. Probably do society a big favor by killing Danny. Then the Ghostface would fade into history as a great unsolved murderer like the Zodiac Killer. Then maybe the band will really get famous like when Curt Kobain ended it all. Not that were anywhere near as well known as Nirvana but he could dream. 

"What time is it?" Danny asks through a yawn. It makes Frank jump as Danny climbs over the seats and settles down next to him. 

"Twelve." Frank looks at Danny, taking in the massive dark circles under his eyes. The makeup he used to cover his scare had faded away long ago, as if he didn't care about hiding it from him anymore, "Shouldn't you sleep more?" 

"Nah, four hours is plenty. Usually I only get two!" Danny laughs and stretches out, hands bumping into Frank's shoulder. 

He hates to consider how long Danny spent watching him at night if he only ever got two hours of sleep a night. How many times had the fucker considered killing him in those long hours? 

"What the fuck do you do then, eh?" Frank teases, hoping that he wouldn't tell the truth. 

"Oh I work on my articles mostly. Listen to some music." Danny shrugs, pulling out a notebook from the back and flipping through it, "I was offered a two week gig in Elk City. Hate to interuppt the roadtrip but..." 

"Sounds boring." Frank snorts, "Can we go do something else like see the...Grand Canyon?" 

"Oh my thing is boring? The Grand Canyon is just a big hole in the ground." 

"And Elk City is just a one road town in Oakland." 

"Oakland?" 

"The state we are going to?" 

Danny snorts, "Oklahoma?" 

"Your state names are dumb." 

"Saskatchewan." 

"I'm not from there those pricks aren't associated with me." Frank gives Danny a nasty look and the man laughs. 

"I'll level with you Franky. I'm going to murder some people in Elk City and I want you to join me." 

Oh. Oh shit. His hands tighten on the steering wheel and he refuses to give Danny the satisfaction of an expression. Just the thought of being an active participant in made his stomach twist in a bundle of emotions. It was the thrill he was looking for, wasn't it? It would be easy, just like last time. A few stabs to the chest or liver to take them out. No consequences. These people would be remembered, talked about. Not forgotten by an evil town. 

"...I guess we can make a stop in Elk City." 

"Atta boy." Danny playfully nudges his shoulder, "Should I get two queens or a king?" 

"Two queens." 

"Pull over at the next gas station and I'll make the arrangements." 

\- x - 

Danny unlocks the door to the hotel room and he's almost suprised to see Danny actually got two beds and not one. He tosses his duffle bag onto the nearest bed before setting his guitar down. It had been two weeks since he last slept in a bed. Something that he was once used to but a few years at Ormond had softened him. Danny drops three duffle bags on the floor before trudging towards the desk and emptying the contents of another bag onto the wood. Despite living in his car Danny had a lot of shit. Frank never mentioned it, assuming that he'd rather skip paying for laundry but maybe it was weird murder shit. 

"What's in your bags?" 

"Hmm? Oh clothes mostly. Why need something to wear?" 

"No you just...have a lot of clothes." 

Danny looks over his shoulder and smiles mischievously at him, "Oh its not all clothes." 

He looks over at the bags on the floor and back at Danny. There hadn't to be shit for murdering in there, but three bags worth? The most anyone needs is a knife and mask right? Maybe some sort of costume too. 

"Like what?" 

"Oh you know, knife, mask, costume," the man pauses, sitting in the cheap leather chair and leaning back as his dark eyes bore into Frank's, "Ropes. Fun stuff." 

"Fun stuff, eh?" Frank raises his eyebrows at Danny, "Do you really need that to kill someone?"


	12. Outline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the rest of the outline for the au in case you were curious where it was going to go

Ch 12: Oklahoma : Danny has been stalking three roommates for a week when he decides its time to strike. Frank sees him in the full Ghostface outfit for the first time and Danny asks if he wants to just watch or participate. Frank is nervous but agrees to participate. They break into the house and can't find two of the people. Frank is incredibly anxious, coming to realization that he can't just kill people without a reason because he feels too guilty. With the janitor he had a reason, albeit stupid, to act the way he did. It was to one up Julie and assert control, he isn't going to kill someone to impress Danny. Its pointless. He tells Danny that he's out and tries to leave, but the person in the house jumps out and hits him with a baseball bat. Frank falls to the ground and Danny jumps in. During the scuffle Danny's mask falls off and frank watches him beat the other man with a horrifying expression. While the man is down in pain Danny convinces frank to do the killing blow. Eventually Danny and frank hold a knife together and stab him to death. 

Ch 13: Arizona: Frank and Danny are at the grand canyon. Frank has a tooth of the man they killed, and he's not sure if he feels guilty or not. Danny is flirting with the tour guide and frank knows he's trying to bother him. Danny is in high spirits and they take a picture intont of the canyon. Eventually frank asks you go to a bar or somewhere to get drunk. Danny agrees and they drive to phoenix before nightfall and go to a gay bar. Frank flirts with some other guy in an attempt to bother Danny, and starts making put with him. Unfortunately Danny is really into it and asks the guy if he wants to be a third for the night. Frank is tempted to let it happen until he looks at Danny's face and realizes he was going to kill the other guy. He tells Danny to fuck off and leaves the bar, trying to find their car but getting lost in the city streets. While wondering the streets he thinks about if this is the life he wants, or if he wants to go back to Legion and make music. Attetion and adrenaline are what he wants, and he gets that when doing concerts, but he also gets it when committing murders. The problem with concerts is that he and Julie have violent tendency and end up lashing out at eachother when doing drugs offered to them. Frank doesn't want to hurt them, but he wonders if he can help himself if he goes back now. While walking someone grabs him and pulls him into an alley. He struggles at first but then realizes its just Danny in the mask. He takes it off and pulls him into a kiss. Frank asks Danny if he wants to fuck him, and Danny says it's all he's wanted to do since they met. Danny drags frank back to his car and drives out of city limits. They fuck on the hood of Danny's car behind behind an abandoned gas station. 

Ch 14: California: frank asks Danny to drop him off at an airport. Its been three months abd ge figures its tine to go home. Danny laughs asks where Frank's gonna go, then lists multiple addresses he has lived it. Framk stares at him in shock sad Danny explains that he has a tendency to obses over things and that frank unfortunately became the object of obsession after seeing him live once. He pulls out a signed 8track tape from the glove box and shows it to frank. Frank is doesn't remember Danny at all, but the tape means that Danny has been following him for a long time. Frank tries desperately to remember who Danny was, rethinking every single one of their interactions at the bar. Casting their entire relationship into new light. While staring at the tape he notices that there's only one signature and remembered when he first met Danny as a small show when they first started playing dive bars. The man had asked for a signature, bit when he passed it to Julie to sign Danny said that he only wanted Frank's, then left. He tells Danny this and the man is flattered to hear it. Frank is quite and asks Danny if he's going to kill him and Legion eventually. Danny says no, that he likes their music too much, and considers frank a good friend. Danny does drive him to an airport, saying that he should hsvd plenty of material to work with after this trip. Frank calls his agent and gets a plan ticket to Quebec. Danny and him sit in a coffee shop while waiting for the flight. Frank asks what Danny is going to do and he says what he always does. Frank asks if he will see Danny again, and the man laughs. He tells frank to he will find frank eventually, and that he was always free to roadtrip with him. The meaning is obvious. Frank gets on his flight, and goes home. 

Ch15: Ormond:Three months later he gets a letter addressed to him filled with photographs from their trip. In some of them he was obviously asleep, in a few it was before they met at a band party where he was blitzed out on coke.


End file.
